


The Girl in the Shadow of the Boy Who Lived

by ContraryToEverything



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-21
Updated: 2016-09-26
Packaged: 2018-06-09 18:05:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 180,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6917647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ContraryToEverything/pseuds/ContraryToEverything
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lily and James Potter secretly had another child: a daughter, immediately after Harry.  She has an empathic link with her brother, and can feel what he feels.  Her existence has changed the fate of the world around her.  What is it like, growing up in the shadow of the Boy Who Lived?  AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is my first attempt at fanfiction. It's got some issues, and I may re-write it eventually

Disclaimer - I do not own Harry Potter and I'm not making any money off this story

* * *

 

Prologue

 

He wasn’t there.  Peter Pettigrew wasn’t there at the hiding place he was supposed to be.  With Death Eaters on the loose and Lord Voldemort out to kill baby Harry Potter, this was not a good time for Peter to be missing.  Sirius felt a sense of dread coiling around his gut, and his skin broke out in goosebumps.  He knew that James and Lily Potter had been called to an emergency Order of the Phoenix meeting that night.  They should be safe at least.  But little Harry.  Dear god!  Harry!  Sirius swung himself onto his black motorcycle, kicking it off into the inky night sky. Bloody Hell, couldn’t this damn thing go any faster?

 

He leaned forwards on his bike twisting the throttle to its limit, his heart pounding with fear, ignoring the sharp bite of the chill autumn air.  His long, dark coat whipped wildly in the wind behind him, but he paid it no heed.  Faster, Faster!  He could see Godric’s Hollow coming into sight, and the house - oh no, the house!  It looked like someone had cast _Bombarda Maxima_ at it with far too much force.  The sight was horrifying, like a gaping wound, bits of wood sticking up like exposed ribs.  The dread within him exploded into full on terror, so intense that he could have choked on it.  Damnable Peter!  Damnable, bloody, treacherous rat!  His descent was made near to full speed, completely disregarding his safety, or the safety of any other poor souls on the road that night.  Thankfully, none of the muggles were out at this time of night.  His landing was jolting as it hit the ground, a sickening nauseating twist of his wheels, and it was a miracle that he wasn’t thrown off.  His bike had left a black trailing mark on the pavement, but this was nearly impossible to see in the shadowy darkness.

 

From the ruins of the house, he could see an immensely tall and broad figure emerging, face and bushy hair coated with dust.  In his arms, he cradled a small bundle with gentle care.

 

  “Hagrid!” Sirius called out, amazed that he could find his voice through the choking thickness of his throat.  “Harry, is he-”  He couldn’t bring himself to finish the question.  It was too terrible to contemplate.

 

  “He’s alive,” Hagrid replied, his voice heavy with emotion.

 

  “Thank Merlin!  And - the Evans?”  Lily’s parents had been watching Harry that night - the Evans had stayed with the Potters during their time in hiding.  Lily had some said thing about how she wanted the extra help with the baby, though it had seemed rather mystifying to Sirius at the time.  Nonetheless, if the Evans hadn’t been there, then Lily and James would have been the ones at the house this night rather than the Evans.  Hagrid was shaking his head woefully.

 

  “Dead -” he said sadly, and could scarce bring himself to say anymore.

 

  “Give Harry to me, Hagrid.  I’m his Godfather.  I’ll bring him to James and Lily.” Sirius reached out his arms for the small, quiet bundle, but Hagrid shied away.

 

  “I’ve had me orders from Dumbledore to bring him straight to James and Lily, or to Dumbledore himself.”  Hagrid’s expression was resolute.  

 

  “At least let me see him then?  To make sure he’s alright,” Sirius said, a hint of pleading in his voice.  Hagrid seemed to consider his words for a moment before relenting, and showing him the baby.  Harry seemed to be sleeping contentedly, his breaths deep and even, but there was an oddly shaped scar on his forehead.  Sirius frowned, but it seemed such a small thing, considering what had happened.  The healers would be able to take care of it easily.  What mattered was that Harry was indeed well.

 

As for Hagrid, there was no sense arguing with him about taking Harry.  What’s more, that rat Pettigrew was still on the loose, and the idea of him scurrying around, following the Dark Lord’s orders made Sirius’s blood boil.

 

  “Take the motorbike to get Harry to them.  I won’t need it anymore.”  Sirius was already swerving away when a cry emerged from the ruins of the house, causing him to freeze on the spot.

 

  “What in Merlin’s name?” Sirius looked from the house to Hagrid unable to hide his shocked confusion.  Hagrid seemed to have no answer, for his eyes were as wide as saucers, and he clutched Harry closer to his chest.  Sirius looked back at the black gaping maw that led into the ruined house.  The idea of going in there made his skin crawl, but the piercing wail from within tugged at his Gryffindor instincts.  Without a second thought, he raced towards the dark entryway, following the sound.

 

The parlor of the house barely seemed to have suffered any damage.  Most of it had been contained to the upper level where the nursery and bedrooms were, and the single side that had been largely blasted away.  On the ground, lying belly down at an awkward angle was Mrs. Evans, clearly dead.  The sight of the muggle baby bottle in her hand brought a sense of renewed horror.  How in the world could any monster think to murder a baby?  Yet it was in this room that the wailing cry was the loudest.

 

From the entryway, it wasn’t visible, but when Sirius walked cautiously around the well worn sofa in the parlor, he was surprised to see a baby, even smaller than Harry, lying in a muggle baby bouncer.  Whose baby was this?  He didn’t think the Evans were young enough to have another baby - it was well known that the muggles’ fertile years were shorter than that of wizards.  Disregarding the shrill, distressed cries that pierced his ears, he leaned down, and picked up the tiny baby.  Contact with human hands seemed to quiet the little thing down, and it ceased its panicked wails, and blinked up at Sirius with that owlish expression that babies seemed to have.  Shadowed in the baby bouncer, Sirius could not see the baby’s face clearly, but as he lifted it up, the lights from the street filtered in, illuminating the small face.  Why, it looked like Lily!  Or rather, it looked like Lily with a hint of James thrown in.

 

The baby squirmed uneasily, and Sirius pulled it towards his chest, cradling it instinctively.  Strange, but he never thought he had fatherly instincts.  Maybe he was just used to it from holding Harry so much.

 

  “Hush now, pup, it’s alright.  I’ve got you,” he murmured gently.  Gingerly making his way around the furniture, he exited the house, to see James, Lily and Dumbledore racing towards them, panic evident on their faces.  Further behind, other members of the Order followed - Remus, the Longbottoms, the Prewett brothers and a few others.

 

  “Harry! Rosie!” Lily was calling out, the voice of a distraught mother.  She had collected the little bundle in Hagrid’s arms, scanning his face with desperate care.  Her eyes alighted on the lightning shaped scar on Harry’s forehead and she furrowed her brow, but Harry seemed calm and otherwise well.  The healers could surely make quick work of a little scar like that.  Lily looked up at Sirius, and rushed over to him, her pace no longer as reckless now that she had a baby in her arms.

 

  “Rosie - is she -”

 

  “She seems fine,” Sirius replied, reassuringly.  He held the baby out towards her, despite her already full hands, but James was quickly coming up behind her, ready to take the child.

 

  “Thank Merlin!” James was saying, as he cradled the little bundle who was now utterly calm.  “Thank you Sirius.  We were so -” His voice broke before he could finish the thought, and he looked down at the baby with a fierce, protective love.

 

  “She’s yours then?” Sirius asked.  “Rosie, is it?”

 

  “Primrose,” Lily replied.  “Primrose Lily Potter. Yes, she’s ours.  We were pregnant soon after Harry was born.  With everything going on - well, it seemed a danger to bring another baby into the world - especially after the prophecy about Harry.  We kept her secret. I used glamour charms to hide my pregnancy.  We didn’t want anyone else coming after us.  We’re sorry to have kept it from you, Sirius.  It seemed the right thing to do at the time.”

 

  “But it was only until we could be sure we were all safe,” James added, reassuringly.  “We want you to be the Godfather for little Rosie as well.”

 

Sirius felt as though his heart was expanding within his chest.  He felt an immediate love and warmth for the little baby - felt it even before he knew it was Lily’s and James’s, but more so now that he knew the truth.

 

  “I would be honoured,” he choked out through the lump in his throat.

 

  “Only my parents knew about her.  That’s why we had them come with us into hiding,” Lily added, and suddenly her eyes widened, and she looked towards the ruin of her former home.

 

  “My parents,” she whispered, fear returning to her voice.

 

   “I’m sorry, Lily,” Sirius said, mournfully, resting his hand gently on her shoulder.  “They tried to save -”  He could not finish the statement.  A sob escaped from Lily and her eyes filled with tears.  James pulled his wife close to him with his spare arm, murmuring soothing comments into her hair.  Eventually, the sobs subsided, and Lily steeled herself to enter the ruin of the house to tend to her beloved parents.  James looked up at Sirius, with an expression of pain and betrayal in his eyes.

 

  “Pettigrew.” James’s voice was low and threatening, with barely concealed rage and betrayal.  Sirius nodded.

 

  “I’ll go after him.” Sirius trotted towards his motorbike resolutely, ignoring the confused protests of the other Order members.  He would see Pettigrew pay if it was the last thing he did.

* * *

 


	2. Chapter 2

1992

 

Primrose jolted awake suddenly, feeling as though she had just had a terrible nightmare.  The street lamps shone into her bedroom, casting an orange glow, but it was still dark out, clouds obscuring the faint stars.  She hadn’t had a nightmare of course.  Primrose remembered almost all of her dreams vividly - especially since they often helped her understand magical theory.  Nonetheless, the feeling of horror crawled through her skin, and she knew it was Harry.  He was having nightmares again.  She tucked her long jet black hair behind her ear as she gazed in the direction of Harry’s room.

 

Pulling the thick blankets aside, she crept out of the large, four poster bed and winced as her bare feet touched the chilled wood floors.  She tiptoed towards her bedroom door, avoiding the floorboards that she knew would creak.  Number twelve Grimmauld Place had plenty of creaky floorboards.  Still, despite the occasional squeaking floorboard, it was a nice and stately home, with plenty of hiding places and mysteries to explore.  Sure, the mounted house-elf heads were a little odd, but they had their own sort of charm.  And Walburga Black’s portrait did sometimes go off on tirades about blood traitors and mudbloods, but these days, she wasn’t too bad.  At least Primrose learned to have some rather pretty manners thanks to Walburga.  Walburga certainly did appreciate pretty manners.

 

It wasn’t as though she would get into trouble for sneaking around at night.  Sirius was an extremely lenient guardian, and even if she woke him in his sleep (doubtful - the man slept like dragon glutted on too much cattle) Sirius never kicked up a fuss.  It was just that after over 10 years of pranks, one learned to sneak around quietly, whether one needed to or not.

 

Harry’s bedroom was directly across the hall.  Neither of them ever left their doors locked.  Only Sirius did, and that was because when Rosie and Harry discovered the Colour Change Charm, Sirius got rather sick of dealing with pink walls, peach blankets, and rosy dressers.  Not to mention a glorious mane of neon pink hair.  Primrose rather thought it brought out the striking grey colour of his eyes, but Sirius vehemently disagreed.  A shame, really.

 

Opening Harry’s door silently, Rosie tiptoed into his room.  She could hear him moaning, and his head thrashed in distress.  The feeling of horror intensified, and if she had had any less fortitude, she would have wanted to curl up into a ball on the floor, whimpering in agonized fear.

 

The fact was, Rosie seemed to have an empathic link with her brother.  For as long as she could remember, she could feel as he felt, though the link weakened the further away they were from one another.  Occasionally, Harry could feel Rosie’s feeling as well, but not as intensely as Rosie could.  This close, the nightmare Harry was trapped in stirred her emotions into panic until it seemed that the faceless darkness itself was determined to suffocate her, to kill and crush her.  Her skin broke out in goosebumps, and she felt as though each step brought her closer to terror.  It was as though some part of her expected to find not her brother, but rather, some mutilated inferi, ready to draw her into it’s hungry grasp.  If her feelings for her brother were weaker, she would have fled - would have blocked him, and his misery and torment out of her life.  As it was, Harry was her best friend in the world, and Rosie loved her brother more than anything - yes, even more than Sirius, as fun as he was.

 

She walked up to the large four poster bed, and shook her brother lightly.

 

  “Harry - Harry, wake up!” she hissed.  “Harry!”  She was shaking him a little more now.  Suddenly he sat up, with a gasping breath, and the feeling of suffocating terror began to ebb.  

 

  “Rosie?” He said through a sleep heavy voice.

 

  “You were having a nightmare again.”

 

  “Mm,” he replied weakly, trembling as he remembered the horrible images in his mind.

 

  “Which one was it this time?” she asked, in a half whisper.  “Was it the one with the man yelling and the green light?”  Harry shook his head.

 

  “The kidnapping then?” she asked.  When he was six, Harry had been kidnapped by rogue Death Eaters, but fortunately, he had been recovered before any harm had been done to him.  Nonetheless, the experience had been a traumatic one, and Harry, who was already an anxious child, became further stressed and apprehensive.

 

  “No.  It was the other one.  The obelisk.”  Harry’s voice was flat, but he still trembled slightly.  Primrose couldn't help her own shiver of dismay.  ‘The obelisk’ could only mean one thing.  No one had ever told her the full story, but she had been able to piece it together over the years - that horrible, horrible tale of what happened from October 31st to November 2nd, 1982.

 

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

 

1982

 

Harry was two years old, and Rosie was one.  Harry, Rosie, mum and dad had moved to a lovely home in The Rocklands, Chudley, which was a community of both muggles and wizards.  After the terrible tragedy the previous years, the Potters had wanted to move away and start anew.  With the Potter fortune, a new life was unsurprisingly easy to attain.

 

Harry remembered more of those days - all Rosie could really bring to mind was blue wallpaper, mum’s emerald green eyes (though Harry did have the same eyes), and dad’s mischievous grin.  But Harry could remember visits from Remus and Sirius, and going to the park to play on the swings.  He also remembered visits to healing specialists who eventually failed to remove his scar, and he even remembered Rosie’s first incident of accidental magic.  Apparently, mum, dad, Remus and Sirius had taken Harry and Rosie to the duck pond, and Rosie was so enamoured with the ducks that she did not want to go home.  Being a one year old baby meant that she was rather helpless, so of course, when Sirius picked up his favourite she-pup, she cried out in distress, and ended up giving Sirius a rather impressive duck bill on his face.  He may have also had a few feathers, here and there.  Of course, mum, dad and Remus were in fits of laughter, and Harry, caught up in the moment, ended up “accidentally” giving Sirius a pair of impressive duck wings.  Thankfully, Remus’s lightening fast reflexes kept Rosie from being dropped on the ground, but despite that little scare, the rest of the marauders were tearing up from laughter at Sirius’s shocked and indignant expression.

 

Life at Chudley was good.  True, there were still rogue Death Eaters to be wary of, and Petter Pettigrew had never actually been found.  But most were convinced that Voldemort was as good as dead, and good riddance!  The Potter’s home at The Rocklands had powerful protection spells to protect the happy little family.  It was no Fidelius Charm, but none was needed.  At least it kept away the rabid fans who wanted to see The Boy Who Lived, and no Death Eaters had ever been spotted in the vicinity.

 

The Potters were good friends with the Longbottoms, and Harry and Rosie often had playdates with the plump and happy Neville.  Harry and Neville got on especially well, but that could have been because they were the same age, and Rosie was little more than a baby who wanted to put everything in her mouth (“No, no, Rosie,” said mum, “The gobstone doesn’t go in your mouth!”)

 

The year passed as peacefully as one could expect during a period of time when witches and wizards were still trying to pick up the pieces of their lives after the war.  James was often busy in his job as an Auror, rooting out Death Eaters that had gone into hiding, awaiting their Dark Lord’s return.  It was a dangerous but satisfying job and he was very good at it.  The death of Mr. and Mrs. Evans, and the near-death of Harry had brought the family closer together than ever (if such a thing was possible), and James and Lily were deeply grateful for each day.  It had also drawn their friends closer to them - Remus, Sirius, Frank and Alice Longbottom.

 

As the joyful and carefree (at least for the children) summer passed into fall, Lily seemed to grow increasingly melancholy.  She desperately wanted to visit her parent’s grave - especially on Hallowe’en - to honour their deaths.  Their memorial was not in the wizarding world, but in the muggle world, where the Evans felt they belonged.  Though they were proud of their beautiful and intelligent daughter, the Evans preferred the familiarity of the world they knew, and Lily honoured their wishes to be buried where they wanted.  Unfortunately, leaving the safety of Chudley was a risk - there were still Death Eaters out there.  As much as this little corner of the world felt peaceful and normal, the rest of the Britain was not necessarily as sedate or serene.

 

However, trusting in her own ability, and that of James’s, the pair of them decided that they would leave Harry and Rosie with the Longbottoms while they ventured out into the muggle world.  So, on Hallowe’en day, they gave a kiss goodbye from both of them to their little toddlers, and the loving pair apparated to their destination.

 

October 31st, 1982 (same day)

 

Sirius and Remus were at Remus’s small flat, sitting on the sofa with Ogden’s Old Firewhiskey in hand.  The full moon would be on the following day, but at the moment, neither were thinking about that.  Though Sirius had the Black fortune to fall upon, Remus was still struggling to find work in a world that was very prejudice against werewolves.  Nonetheless, that didn’t mean that Remus was unwilling to help Sirius on his projects.

 

Though Sirius did not have a job per se, that did not mean that he didn’t make money.  He was loathe to call it work, because it didn’t feel like work.  Rather, it was more like a hobby: Sirius made products for Zonko’s Joke Shop.  As of this day, he could proudly say that he was the creator of five best selling products (though some credit went to James and Remus who helped) and he hoped to be on his way to six.

 

He was at Remus’s flat because Remus was better at charms than he was, and he was struggling to get his latest idea just right.

 

  “I used the _multiplicamini_ charm, and I’ve got the chocolate frog to kind of turn into tadpoles, but I can’t seem to get the movement of them just right,” Sirius was explaining, as he showed Remus the chocolate tadpoles that seemed to jerk rather than wiggle.  His new idea was product that looked, acted and tasted like a chocolate frog, but when eaten, the frog would burst into chocolate tadpoles that swam out of the victim’s mouth, anytime they tried to talk.  The effect only lasted for 5 minutes but he hoped to extend it to at least 20.  That and the dratted tadpoles didn’t move right.  They were too stiff and awkward.

 

  “Hmm.” Remus picked up the ‘tadpole’ quirking his lips up at the way it simply didn’t look like a tadpole because it failed to wiggle.  It looked more like the paddles of muggle pinball machines.

 

  “ _Undulata_ perhaps?” Remus suggested.  “Are these things still edible?”

 

  “Of course they are!” Sirius exclaimed, ruffled at the note of doubt in Remus’s voice.  “It’s just that they’ve been in someone’s mouth.  But you can still eat them.”  Remus chuckled in response.

 

  “I’ll pass.  Could be useful if you’re dealing with dementors,” Remus said thoughtfully.

 

  “I’m doing the wizarding world a great service, you know.” Remus laughed at Sirius’s mock serious expression.

 

  “So serious, Sirius,” Remus said, referencing an old joke of the Marauders.  Sirius maintained his mock-serious expression in response, but only managed to look vaguely constipated.

 

The pair of them became absorbed in working on Sirius’s project.  A generous soul, Sirius always gave his friends a cut of his profits when they helped, but Remus rarely accepted except when his situation got desperate enough.  (“After all, they’re your ideas, not mine,” he once said.)  The _Undulata_ charm did seem to get the tadpoles wiggling properly, but unfortunately, it also caused the chocolate frogs to wiggle as well.  It was decidedly odd.

 

  “So, the cubs are staying with the Longbottoms?” Remus asked later that evening when they had set aside Sirius’s frog project.  Sirius often babysat Rosie and Harry, but since the full moon was nearing, he kept company with Remus instead.  The bonds of their friendship meant that Sirius couldn’t bring himself to leave Remus alone when the time of the wolf came upon him, though it was certainly hard to resist the adorable little pups.

 

  “That they are.  James mentioned that they might stay the night with Lily’s sister, depending on how things went.” Sirius scrunched his nose in dislike as he thought of Petunia Dursley.  He had only met her once, at Lily and James’s wedding and that had been one time too many.

 

  “They’re staying overnight?” Remus replied in surprise.  “I would have thought that they would want to get home to the cubs right away.”  

 

Sirius shrugged.  “They said it was unlikely, but mentioned it just in case.  The pups like the Longbottoms though.  Neville’s a good lad.”

 

  “You sound like you’re trying to convince yourself more than you’re trying to convince me,” Remus observed.

 

Sirius grinned in response.  “They’re pretty cute.  You can’t deny that.”

 

  “That they are,” Remus replied with his own grin, as he considered the way Harry would always want rides on his shoulder, and the way Rosie would suck on his knuckles as though he were a muggle pacifier.

 

Sirius ended up staying the night on Remus’s couch (claiming he’d probably get splinched if he tried to apparate home, after a bit too much firewhiskey.)

 

The following day, or perhaps it would be more accurate to say afternoon, considering how late Sirius had slept in, Sirius and Remus were slowly drinking coffees at the kitchen table.

 

  “You know, one thing I really miss about Hogwarts was the Forbidden Forest,” Remus was saying wistfully.  Sirius knew he was referring to the full moons, and the way they used to run free and wild through the woods.  These days, they usually ended up locking themselves away in a room in Grimmauld Place, which was nowhere near as satisfying as roaming through a forest.  While the company of Padfoot was an immense improvement over being locked up alone, it was still a long night.

 

  “Why don’t we apparate there?” Sirius suggested.  In fact, the more he thought about it, the better the idea seemed.  One could always count on Sirius to be impulsive.

 

  “With Lily and James gone, I don’t think it’s the best idea to just leave,” Remus replied, but his argument, though valid, sounded weak on his lips.  He longed to run freely - to leap, and bound, and feel the wind through his fur coat.

 

  “Well, even if they weren’t gone, it would hardly make a difference.  At this time of month, there’s nothing we could do anyway.”

 

  “There’s nothing _I_ can do.  But you should still be here.  They might need you.” Remus was ever the responsible one.

 

  “Well, you can’t go roaming the forest alone.”

 

  “I wasn’t planning on roaming the forest alone.  We’ll go to Grimmauld Place.” Remus tried to speak with more conviction.

 

  “If you say so, Moony,” Sirius replied, but there was a gleam in his eye that spelled mischief.

 

Later that night, at Hogwarts

 

The young Slytherin student was unable to sleep that night, as was the case most nights.  On such nights, he often made his way to the astronomy tower, either to gaze at the stars, or to simply enjoy the cool breeze of night.  He felt mostly at peace - as much as a Slytherin was able, when he had to constantly watch his back against students from other houses.  However, when he heard a strange duet of howling from the direction of the Forbidden forest, he could not help the shiver of unease that ran down his spine.

 

November 2, 1982

 

Sirius and Remus apparated back to Grimmauld Place in the morning, feeling both tired but also refreshed.  However, upon entering the dining room, they were greeted by a tawny owl, hooting in irritation, with a letter bearing the wax seal of the familiar Longbottom crest, rather haphazardly applied.  A sense of terrible foreboding left them feeling suddenly uneasy, and they glanced at one another before Sirius stepped towards the table, relieving the owl of its burden.  

 

The owl bit his fingers, both because it had been kept waiting so long (evidently unable to track either Sirius or Remus in their transformed state), and because it felt entitled to a treat.  Though the bite broke through his skin, Sirius disregarded the pain, while Remus went into the kitchen to find a bit of meat for the owl.  When Remus returned a brief moment later, he was disturbed to see Sirius ghostly pale, and the letter trembling in his hand.  Already, a feeling of guilt was pooling in Remus’s heart, believing that if not for him, Sirius would have received the owl sooner.  Who could say how long the vexed creature had been waiting for them?

 

  “What is it?” Remus asked.  Though he had a sense of what could be wrong, he needed the confirmation.  Unable to speak, Sirius thrust the letter towards him.

 

 _Sirius,_ (it read, dispensing with all formalities)

 

_Come immediately.  We were expecting James and Lily to check-in last night but heard nothing from them.  Alice has gone to look for them, and I am watching the children.  We have notified the Order.  Come pick the children up with all haste.  I must go to Alice - she left alone._

 

_Frank Longbottom_

 

Though Alice was a more than competent auror, there was no doubt that if great danger existed, she could not handle it on her own; especially with rogue Death Eaters on the loose.  Furthermore, there was no certainty about how long it would take the other Order members to receive the message and provide aid.  Frank was clearly eager to go with his wife - as a team, the pair of them were near inseparable.

 

  “Let’s go,” Sirius said shakily, already heading out the door.  Dropping the letter back on the table, Remus followed.

 

They apparated to the Longbottom estate, the ancestral family home where Frank and Alice lived.  Frank was already at the door, Harry by his side, and Primrose squirming uneasily in his arms.  Frank quickly deposited the one-year-old into Sirius’s arms, while Harry obediently trotted over.

 

  “Neville?” Sirius asked, wondering whether he would be required to watch the Longbottom child as well.

 

  “With his grandmother,” Frank replied tersely.  “I must go. Bellatrix,   Rodolphus , Rabastan , and Barty Jr have been sighted.”  He apparated without awaiting Sirius’s or Remus’s response - evidently, he had been waiting for quite a while, and could not bring himself to stay any longer.  As for Sirius and Remus, they were white as sheets, and sick with dread.

 

  “Pa-fud?” Harry asked hesitantly in his babyish voice, reaching up to take his Godfather’s hand.  Shaken out of his shock by Harry’s voice, Sirius reached down to scoop up his godson, though his arms were already full.

 

  “I can take Rosie,” said Remus, and Sirius handed her over to him.

 

  “We should get back,” said Sirius, trying to keep his voice normal so as to not frighten the children more than they already were.  Even Rosie, who could not understand what was going on was whimpering nervously.  Remus knew that ‘getting back’ referred to the Potter’s home in Chudley, and not Remus’s flat nor Grimmauld Place.  If the Potters were to return, it would be the first place they would go, and where they would expect their children to be.  However, because of the protection spells around the Potter residence, it would be impossible for them to apparate inside the house.  Moreover, with muggles in the neighbourhood (and with it being morning now), they would have to apparate a bit of a ways off, and walk the rest.

 

With the children held tightly in their arms, they apparated to Chudley, to the familiar secluded location that was closest to the Potter’s home.  They walked with quick strides, trying to find the right balance between making haste, while not jarring and frightening the toddlers.  However, as they turned the corner, they could hear a commotion the next street over, in Chudley Square.

 

Chudley was a small town, and it seemed unusual for there to be any sort of crowd on a Tuesday morning.  It certainly didn’t sound like anything positive, such as a promotion or celebration.  If anything, the sounds which were a mix of low murmurs, and what seemed like someone saying “keep away, keep away now!” seemed to suggest an accident.  Surely it couldn't be related to the James and Lily, could it?  Sirius and Remus’s eyes met, and there seemed to be a silent agreement between them.  Chudley Square was by no means out of the way if their destination was the Potter house.  And if it turned out that whatever was happening was related to James and Lily, then at least they would have saved themselves a bit of time.

 

They crossed the street towards Chudley Square, making their way through the small (but growing) crowd.  Around them they could hear murmurs of “terrible, just terrible” or “what could have happened to them?” or “Is it catching?” or “such nice folk.”  None of the sentiments that were being expressed around them brought any reassurance.  Sirius made his way to the scene first, where a muggle policeman was trying to keep the crowd at bay.  His initial reaction was that of relief: James and Lily were sitting at the base of the obelisk that marked the town square, looking around themselves with confused expressions.  However, the relief quickly died as he saw the words graffitied on the obelisk behind them: “The Dark Lord will Rise Again.”

 

  “Mummy?” Harry said, reaching his arms forward towards his parents, wiggling restlessly in Sirius’s arms.  Sirius strode over to the couple, clinging on to the small shred of hope that they were alright, but the closer he got, the greater the sense of wrongness.  Neither Lily nor James looked towards Harry, Sirius or Remus, who had followed behind.  They were mumbling nonsense, flinching suddenly at shadows, eyes frighteningly blank.  Their clothes, though intact, were dirty, and both of them held their hands in a tense, claw-like manner, as though they were taut with pain.

 

The police officer was saying something to them, but neither Remus nor Sirius heard him.  Without being aware of when it happened, Sirius had set Harry down, and Harry was scrambling into his mother’s lap, desperately seeking reassurance.

 

  “Mummy?  Daddy?  Mummy!  It’s me, Harry!  Can’t you see me?  I’m not hiding.  Mummy!” Harry pleaded.  Though Sirius did not realize it at the moment, Harry was used to playing hide-and-seek with his parents, and used to the way they sometimes pretended not to see him.  However, they didn’t pretend for long - they always ‘found’ him in the end.  So why weren’t they looking at him now?  “I’m not hiding mummy!  I’m right here!”  Harry’s voice was breaking as tears of fear and confusion streamed from his eyes.  He was clinging to Lily’s muggle blouse, tugging at it frantically.

 

For a brief moment, Sirius was frozen on the spot, but he eventually broke from his stupor as he heard Harry’s cries.

 

  “Harry!” he called out.  “Harry, it’s okay.  We’ll get the healers.  Come now.” Sirius scooped up the child, hugging him with a frightful desperation.  “The healers will help them.  It’ll be okay.  Remus!”  Sirius looked over at his friend, who understood his unspoken message to get help.  Remus nodded, and handed Primrose, who was now crying, over to Sirius.  With an equal mix of heavy guilt, and utter fear, Remus ran past the crowd.  His last thought before he apparated away was: this is all my fault.

 

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

 

1992

 

Harry had scooted over in his bed to make room for Rosie.  Though they had, on some silent level, agreed that they were too old to have sleepovers in each other’s beds, Harry appreciated Rosie’s presence after the nightmare.  His scar throbbed lightly, but the discomfort was nothing compared to the feelings of helplessness and terror.  It was made worse by the fact that the nightmare was, in fact, all too real.

 

Both Lily and James were still alive, but they were kept in a permanent ward at St Mungos Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.  Rosie and Harry visited them twice a year, usually on special holidays, but the visits were distressing for both of them.  Lily and James never recognized either of them, and tended to mumble and twitch, and even sometimes scream.  The screams were the worst.  The sounds would echo down the halls, primal and chilling.  The screams seem to express a mix of pain and anguished hopelessness.  Neither Rosie nor Harry ever slept well after visiting their parents.

 

At least  Bellatrix, Rodolphus and Rabastan Lestrange, and Bartemius Crouch Jr had been caught soon after they tortured the Potter’s to madness, and were locked away tightly in Azkaban.  Rosie hoped that they would rot in there forever.  It had been Alice and Frank, as well as several other members of the Order who had caught them.  The Longbottoms, alongside “Mad-Eye” Moody, were considered some of the best Aurors in all of Britain.  Neville, who was still a family friend, was always proudly talking about their exploits.  Though she did not say it out loud, some part of her envied Neville, and his loving relationship with his parents.  Their influence seemed to bring out the best in him, and Neville was a wonderfully brave boy.  At the same time, she knew that she would never trade Sirius for all the world, and even if he wasn’t mum and dad, he was still Sirius - the guardian to Harry and herself - and she loved him and all his crazy antics.

 

Once Rosie was comfortably settled on her side of Harry’s bed, she turned to face him.

 

  “ _Are you sure you don’t want me to get Sirius_?” she hissed softly in parseltongue, the language of snakes, to Harry from under the covers.  

 

  “ _I’m sure_ ,” Harry replied.  “ _Besides, he isn’t exactly functional when he’s tired_.”  Rosie laughed softly.

 

  “ _Yeah.  But he’d still try_.”

 

  “ _I know_ ,” Harry replied.  They were silent for a moment, listening to the whistle of the wind outside the window.  While Harry had been a natural Parselmouth, Primrose was not.  She had a distant memory long ago of when they had been mere toddlers, playing together with their toys.  Harry had a wooden snake toy that slithered around by itself.  One had to be careful as they held it because the grooves in the wood could pinch their fingers, but it provided endless amusement whenever they tried to catch it.

 

They were playing together on the floor of the drawing room-turned-playroom of Grimmauld Place.  On hands and knees the crawled around, looking for the wooden snake under the furniture, and Harry had hissed at it to come out.  Harry of course thought he was speaking normally but it had been incomprehensible to Rosie.  Yet, she was at the age where learning languages came naturally to her.  Eventually, she was able to learn parselmouth, though it was quite possible that the empathic link between her and Harry enabled her to understand his meaning.  However, later, when Sirius discovered they were speaking parselmouth, his reaction had been closer dismay rather than interest, though he had tried to hide it.  They were only toddlers after all - hearing them hiss at each other was not as threatening as hearing a grown Dark Lord doing it.  It was just strange and disturbing.

 

Rosie also remembered that as they got older, they had tried to teach parseltongue to Sirius.  But words that sounded clear to them sounded like a blur of hisses to Sirius.  He couldn’t make sense of any of it.  As Harry and Rosie got older, and started exploring the books that Sirius had inherited, they came to understand that parseltongue was considered a rather Dark talent to have.  From their readings, they could find no record of a person learning parseltongue - only inheriting it.  Even Harry sometimes doubted Rosie’s memories when she claimed that Harry had taught her.  (“You were just a baby - how can you remember learning a language at that age?  You could have just understood it without realizing it,” Harry had said.)  However, Rosie maintained her insistence that Harry had taught her the language.  When they realized that no one else could understand them, they started speaking parseltongue amongst themselves, though only when they were alone together.  It was their own secret language, and it made plotting pranks against Sirius so much easier.  Of course, that only meant that Sirius was instantly on alert if he ever caught them hissing.

 

  “ _Harry - Are you nervous about school_?” Primrose hissed, hesitantly.

 

  “ _Not really.  It is my second year after all.  What about you?  You’re turning eleven in a week, so you’ll be going to Hogwarts with me this year_.”

 

  “ _Yeah, I am.  Can’t you tell me about the sorting?  Please?_ ” Rosie pleaded in her half-whisper.  Harry chuckled tiredly.

 

  “ _I don’t want to ruin the surprise,_ ” he replied.  “ _We should sleep though.  Sirius is taking us to Diagon Alley tomorrow to get our school stuff.  Finally._ ” Rosie laughed.

 

  “ _Hey, at least we’re buying our school supplies before school starts, and not after.  Knowing Padfoot, that’s pretty much a miracle._ ” Rosie grinned, as she considered her godfather’s penchant for extreme procrastination.  Her response elicited a small laugh from Harry.

 

  “ _Sleep, Rosie.  I know you have a million questions about Hogwarts, but you’ll see it for yourself soon_ ”

 

 “ _Okay, okay.  Good night._ ”

 

  “ _Night._ ”

 

With these thoughts in mind, Rosie and Harry eventually fell back asleep, comforted by each other’s presence.

 

The following day, Primrose and Harry were up by late morning, and after changing into muggle clothes, they headed down to the dining room.  Kreacher, the house-elf was waiting and ready to serve them.

 

  “Old Kreacher has prepared breakfast for Master and Mistress,” the house-elf said to the pair of them, bowing.

 

  “Thank you, Kreacher,” Rosie replied, with a smile.  Sirius had told Harry and Rosie that when he took ownership of Grimmauld Place, the house-elf had been near intolerable, with his constant slurs about mudbloods and blood-traitors.  The house-elf moaned and lamented having to serve Sirius because he was  “a nasty and ungrateful swine who broke his mother’s heart.”  However, over the years, Kreacher seemed to have mellowed out.  Of everyone in the household, Kreacher seemed to liked Primrose best.  This was because (according to Kreacher) Mistress Walburga liked Rosie’s “pretty manners despite being a filthy half-breed.”

 

As Rosie considered the situation, she did notice that she was more tolerant of Kreacher and Madam Walburga than either Harry (who mostly ignored them) or Sirius (who snapped insults.)  Of course, she knew that their behaviour was deplorable and incredibly offensive, but one was a house-elf and one was a portrait.  What harm could they really do?  Besides, some of Madam Walburga’s ‘compliments’ amused her.  

 

  “You may be a filthy half-breed befouling the house of my fathers, but at least you can act like a proper pureblood,”  Walburga had once said to Rosie, rather imperiously.

 

  “Thank you, Madam Walburga, you are most kind,” Primrose had replied with a curtsey.  She could swear that Madam Walburga almost smiled that day.

 

  “Is there anything else I can get for Mistress?” Kreacher was saying, breaking into Rosie’s thoughts.  

 

  “Oh, no, I’m fine, thank you Kreacher,” Rosie replied, smiling.  She and Harry sat down across from one another at one end of the long dining table, eying their generous plates of food.  As usual, Rosie had a hearty appetite, and was enjoying her lovely English breakfast, but Harry was picking at his food.  He was already a skinny boy, and his nervous habit of barely eating did nothing to help.  Through her empathic link, she could sense the undercurrent of anxiety flowing through him, stronger than usual because they would be out in public later in the day.  She was used to Harry’s anxiety, but it still hurt her heart to feel his discomfort.  

 

Harry hated being constantly accosted by strangers wanting his autograph, or hoping for a handshake, or randomly patting him on the back (they never asked, which made it so much worse).  Furthermore, after the Death Eater’s had kidnapped him when he was six, being around strangers made him feel more apprehensive than ever.  Sudden movements often made him flinch, as much as he tried to hide it.  On top of that was the unsettling feeling of always being watched (and in fact, he was always being watched - he was famous after all.)  In many ways, she was glad to be in the shadow of “The Boy Who Lived” but given a choice, she would have gladly borne the burden for him, so that he could be free.

 

Her thoughts were disrupted by the owl post, as a barn owl swooped over the table, and nearly dropped the _Daily Prophet_ on her plate.  She set the newspaper aside, and handed the owl five knuts, just as another owl swooped in.

 

  “Oh!” she exclaimed excitedly as she saw the colourful publication.  “It’s the latest edition of _The Quibbler_!”  Harry looked over at her and rolled his eyes, but his anxiety eased at the sight of Rosie’s evident glee.  Her hazel-green eyes scanned the headlines but the owl was demanding her attention.  She paid the second owl seven knuts and it nudged her hand affectionately, recognizing a loyal subscriber when it saw one.  Rosie gave the owl a scratch on the head, and fed it a piece of bacon before it flew off.

 

  “I can’t believe you read that stuff,” he grumbled, but a smile quirked at his lips.  Rosie ignored his comment.

 

  “Umgubular Slashkilters!  I’ve been waiting for this article for ages!  They’re only found on the Continent, you know.” Rosie’s food was all but forgotten as she opened the magazine, absorbed in the stories therein.  “A picture!  Amazing!  Look, Harry!”  She turned the open page towards him, pointing at the moving image of a blurry shadow in a fuzzy landscape.

 

  “Uhh….”

 

 “I know!  Unbelieveable!”  She had pulled the magazine back, reading more details of the article with rapt interest.  By the time Harry and Rosie had finished their breakfast (Harry only managed half his plate), they could hear Sirius tromping tiredly down the stairs.

 

  “Snuffles!” Rosie called out cheerfully to Sirius  She tended to call him Snuffles, Padfoot or Sirius rather interchangeably.  “You’re up early!  It’s not even noon yet!”  Sirius looked from Rosie to Harry through bleary eyes, his sleeping robes rumpled, and the sash loosely tied.  His lustrous black hair was messy and unbrushed, falling across his eyes, but he nonetheless still looked as handsome as ever.  She could understand how witches were always tripping over their robes when he walked by on the street.  If only they knew what he was _really_ like.

 

  “The things I do for you pups,” Sirius replied with an exaggerated sigh, but his lips quirked upwards soon after.  He was referencing their trip to Diagon Alley of course.  If it were up to Sirius, he’d be sleeping in until well past noon, and taking them shopping in the late afternoon, but Rosie wanted to go early to ensure there was enough time to find everything.

 

 “Kreacher! Get me a coffee!” Sirius hollered towards the kitchen as he plopped himself down on a dining room chair at the head of the table, between Rosie and Harry.    “It’s too bloody early to go out without one.”  Kreacher appeared beside the table, and placed a mug of hot coffee in front of Sirius while Rosie and Harry shared a look, and smiled in amusement.  

 

  “I saw that!” Sirius called out, feigning an indignation.

 

  “Drink your coffee, dear Padfoot,” Rosie said, with mock sweetness.  Sirius grimaced.

 

  “You sound like Cissy.  It’s damned disturbing,” Sirius muttered, referring to his haughty pureblood cousin, as he nursed his coffee.

 

  “Language, Sirius,” Rosie replied, with a well practiced mix of pretentiousness and disapproval.  Seeing Sirius’s horror, Harry and Rosie burst out laughing.

 

  “Have mercy on him, Rosie,” Harry smirked.  “I don’t think his brain is on yet.”

 

  “There, there, Padfoot,” Rosie said, as she patted Sirius’s hand, which rested on the table. “With your looks, you don’t really need a brain anyway.” Sirius groaned.

 

  “When did you two end up becoming such brats!  Where did I go wrong?” Sirius moaned, but the banter and coffee had woken him a bit more, and his mood was buoyant.  As cheeky as they were, he loved the two of them.

 

  “So, are we taking the motorbike today, Pups?” Sirius asked breaking the momentary silence, after he had had few more slow sips of coffee.  Harry and Rosie exchanged a look.

 

  “Are you sure you can drive this early in the morning?” Harry asked.  They would be driving through muggle London after all, and entering Diagon Alley through the Leaky Cauldron.

 

  “Arrg!” Sirius exclaimed. “When did you two get so old and boring!  Where’s your sense of adventure!”

 

  “We rather value our lives, Padfoot,” Rosie replied primly. “And if we’re old, what does that make you?”

 

Sirius puffed out his chest, and swept his hair from his face.  “Dashing and Distinguished of course!”

 

  “And modest too!” Harry added with a chuckle.  “Can’t deny that you are dashing though, Padfoot.  We’ve seen the way the ladies _and_ the blokes look at you.”

 

  “What would you two know about anything like that!  You’re too young, both of you.”  Sirius frowned as he considered the two children before him.  He never brought his _amours_ home with him.  Well, that wasn’t entirely true - there were one or two times when he introduced his dates to the pups.  Sirius shuddered at the memory.  It had not worked out well at all.  Moments like those made him want to _obliviate_ himself.  But it was all in the past now!

 

  “Shall we get going then?” he asked his two godchildren.  They grinned and nodded.

 

  “You may want to change first though,” Harry added.

 

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

 

Diagon Alley was  packed.  If not for the wooden signs proclaiming the names of the shops, Rosie would barely be able to tell where to go.  She could feel Harry’s barely controlled tension, which, mingled with her own nervousness was a distinctly uncomfortable feeling.  However, for Rosie, her nervousness was more like excitement, whereas Harry’s nervousness was more like dread.  There were many families out that day, undoubtedly doing last minute shopping for their children before the school term began.

 

In front of Quality Quidditch Supplies, a crowd of children were gathered, exclaiming over the newly released Nimbus Two Thousand-and-one.  “It’s even faster than the Nimbus Two Thousand!” she could hear one of the boy’s exclaiming.  Rosie smirked in amusement.  Sirius had just bought the Nimbus Two Thousand-and-one for Harry’s birthday, and it was fast indeed.  It would be fair to say that Quidditch was one of the strongest bonding factors between Harry and Sirius.  On the right, a chorus of hooting could be heard from Eeylops Owl Emporium.  It was where Harry got Hedwig, just last year.  From the corner of her eye, Rosie admired a beautiful eagle owl on display, but it was nothing compared to Hedwig.

 

She thought about where they would have to stop today: Madam Malkin’s Robes for All Occasions for her school robes; Potage’s Cauldron Shop; Slug & Jigger’s Apothecary; Flourish and Blotts, of course; and Ollivanders.  Was there anything she was forgetting?  She pulled out the parchment that listed the supplies she would need to buy, and gave it a quick glance.  She already owned a pair of dragonhide gloves, as well as crystal phials and a set of brass scales.  Ah, a telescope - she still needed that.  As for Harry, all he needed were books, and most of them were written by someone named Gilderoy Lockhart.

 

As they pushed through the crowds, Rosie looked over at Harry, who was grimacing, and then at Sirius who was also grimacing.

 

  “It seems we’re not the only last minute shoppers,” she commented with a pointed look at Sirius.

 

  “As I always say, why do today what you can put off tomorrow?” Sirius replied cheekily.  Rosie could barely refrain from rolling her eyes (Madam Walburga would say rolling one’s eyes is uncouth - and why was she even thinking about Madam Walburga at a time like this?)  Rosie shook her head.  She looked over at her brother, who was clenching his jaw.  If he were a cat, his hair would have been standing on end.  Rosie took his hand, and he glanced over at her, smiling gratefully for the distraction.

 

  “Are you okay, Harry?” she asked with concern as she squeezed his hand.  He gave a quick nodded in response, before once again scanning the crowd, always vigilant for threats.  It made him look so much older than twelve.  But considering what he had gone through in his life, it was understandable that Harry would be extremely cautious.

 

  “Where to first, pup?” Sirius asked her.  Before she could reply, a portly man in dark-pumpkin coloured robes wormed his way in front of them.

 

  “The Boy Who Lived!” the man exclaimed, jovially.  “How about an autograph, for my-” The portly man’s attention was pulled away from Harry by Sirius who stepped towards him threateningly.  A growl escaped his lips.  The portly man looked from Harry, to Sirius, and then Rosie, whose hazel-green eyes were as cold as midwinter.

 

  “So, erm, ah- I’ll just be on my way then,” the portly man said nervously, backing away from them before rushing off.

 

 “Bloody tosser,” Sirius muttered, shaking his head.  Rosie couldn’t help but feel a rush of affection for Sirius. While Sirius never truly understood Harry’s constant anxiety (being the type of person who let trouble roll off his back like drops of water), at least Sirius was always ready to defend Harry.  She also thought it was rather amusing that after all these many years of being raised by Sirius, neither Harry nor she had ever picked up Sirius’s rather colourful language.  Rosie gave Harry’s hand another squeeze, and the stormy expression on his face dissipated.

 

  “Do you two want to wait at Quality Quidditch Supplies while I buy my robes and cauldron, and then stop by the apothecary?  All you need this year is books, right Harry?  I can meet you at Flourish and Blotts later.” Rosie said to Sirius and Harry.

 

  “You’re too independent by far, Pup.  At least make a man feel needed,” Sirius huffed.

 

  “Oh Snuffles!  Of course you’re needed!  Afterall, we do need someone to practice charms on!” Rosie replied with a grin, as she glanced at his black hair, which she and Harry liked to turn pink when Sirius wasn’t looking.  Sirius gave a mock scowl.

 

  “Thank Merlin you’re off to Hogwarts, brat!  You can practice charms on something other than me.”  Rosie stuck her tongue out at Sirius. Though she often acted older than her almost-eleven years, in that moment, she looked like the child that she was.  Sirius was filled with a sudden protective warmth for his two charges.

 

  “Well, Harry?” Rosie asked, with a tilt of her head.

 

  “I’ll come with you,” Harry replied. He was still looking rather pale from anxiety, but the banter between Sirius and Rosie drew a small smile from him.

 

   “Madam Malkin’s then?” Rosie asked.  Harry nodded, and Sirius sighed with exasperation.

 

   “You can always wait at Quality Quidditch, you know, Padfoot.” Rosie gave him a pointed look.

 

   “I’m coming with you.  Never let it be said that Sirius Black fails to watch over his godchildren!”  Despite his proclamation, it still felt as though Harry and Rosie were dragging Sirius through a terrible ordeal.  He cared little for shopping, and he cared for it less when it was someone else doing it.

 

The squat, and smiling Madam Malkin was wearing robes of burgundy trimmed with burnt orange.  Her shop was filled with fabrics of all types and colours, displayed prettily on dark wooden shelves in neatly folded stacks.  It was almost like looking at an artist's colour palette.  Madam Malkin led Primrose up to a short footstool to stand on so that she could take Rosie’s measurements for her school robes.  As Rosie was being measured, she looked over at Sirius, who had his arms crossed and an expression of obvious impatience on his face.  Suddenly, the door to Madam Malkin’s shop opened, and an attractive blonde-haired witch entered.  Sirius immediately straightened his posture, and put on his ‘mysterious, handsome, and charming’ face.  Harry, who happened to look over at Sirius as soon as the pretty witch entered rolled his eyes, and shared a glance with Rosie, who giggled.  Harry gave Rosie a look that said “should I do it?” and Rosie nodded.

 

After Madam Malkin ascertained that the blonde-witch was only browsing the fabrics for a new dress robe, she went back to helping Rosie.  Sirius then swooped in, with his overwhelming charm, and roguish smile that held just a hint of danger.  The blonde witch blushed, and it was obvious to Harry and Rosie (who had seen this sight many times before), that the witch was completely bedazzled by the attentions of the aristocratic-looking man.  The blond had a rather grating giggle, and she kept leaning in towards Sirius, touching his arm with playful flirtatiousness.  The witch was putty in Sirius’s hands, and he looked ready to go in for the kill (Rosie couldn’t help but use the predatory metaphor to describe Sirius’s behaviour.)  Rosie then glanced over at Harry, with a look that said “now.”  Harry grinned wickedly and nodded.  Through the empathic link, she could sense that almost all of Harry’s anxiety was gone, and replaced with playful anticipation.

 

Harry sidled up to Sirius and the blonde witch.

 

  “Wow, Sirius,” Harry exclaimed as he looked up at the witch.  “She’s really pretty!” The blond blushed with obvious delight, but Sirius was looking at Harry with nervous suspicion.

 

  “Is she going to be our new mum?” Harry asked, wearing an innocent expression on his face.  The witch paled, looking from Harry to Sirius, and then back at Harry.  Harry looked up at the witch and put on his ‘friendly’ face.

 

  “You can play with my sister, and help her do her hair,” Harry said sweetly to the blonde, who then looked from Harry to Rosie, and back at Harry, still as pale as ever.

 

  “Erm - I think I hear my friend calling me,” the witch squeaked nervously, backing away, and then dashing out the door.  Harry’s innocent expression disappeared as he broke out in laughter.  Even Rosie was giggling at Sirius’s affronted expression.  Fortunately, Madam Malkin was finished with Rosie’s measurements, so her laughter didn’t result in being stabbed with multiple pins.

 

  “All done, dear,” Madam Malkin was saying, smiling indulgently at the laughing children.

 

The next stop was Potage’s cauldron shop.  The Black residence already had several cauldrons that Rosie and Harry had used, but she wanted a new cauldron for school.  For the most part, Rosie and Harry had only ever tried making relatively simple potions.  Considering the extensive collection of books that Sirius had inherited from his family (full of all sorts of interesting Dark Magic), it was irresistible for Harry and Rosie to try their hand at some of the recipes.  They only ever created an explosion once, and it was a fairly small one.  It did leave a permanent hole in the attic floor though (where Harry and Rosie had set up their make-shift lab).  The apothecary was next, and then a quick stop into Sugarplum’s Sweet Shop for a little indulgence.  Pink Coconut ice and toffee eclairs were her favourites, but Harry preferred the chocolate frogs, and sugar quills.  Sirius decided to loaded up on chocolate frogs.  He had abandoned his frog project almost a decade ago, and now that both pups were headed off to school seemed like the right time to give it another go.

 

Following that was Flourish and Blotts.  Flourish and Blotts was one of Primrose’s favourite stores on Diagon Alley, and Harry seemed to feel the same way as well.  With his anxious personality, books became one of Harry’s best friends, and Rosie and Harry both developed a passion for learning.  For Harry, books provided a way for him to explore the world in a relatively safe setting, while for Rosie, books fed her desire for more knowledge and understanding.  Sirius’s inherited collection of books provided hours and hours of entertainment as well, but many of his books were very dark and dangerous.  Both Rosie and Harry were aware of an awful lot of curses and hexes, even if they didn’t necessarily know how to cast them.  That doesn’t mean they never tried, of course (after stealing Sirius’s wand - and never practicing on each other, obviously.)  Though they never gave it much thought at the time, it was rather telling of the bond between Sirius, Harry and Rosie that Sirius’s wand even worked for them at all.

 

The welcome sight of floor to ceiling bookshelves greeted Rosie and Harry.  Books of every size, shape, and type met their eyes, filled with wonderful mysterious to be explored.  The brightly lit store was fairly busy, and it was just lucky for them that they had not been there a week and a half prior, else they would have had to deal with Gilderoy Lockhart’s book signing.  The crowd then was even worse than it was today.  Harry and Rosie decided to split up in search of the books they needed.  They were both familiar with the layout of the bookstore, and were certain that they would have no difficulty finding the books on their supply list.  In fact, some of the books on the list were ones that Rosie had already read, such as _Magical Theory_ by Adalbert Waffling, and _The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection_ by Quentin Trimble.  Magical theory was one of her favourite topics, and she had a veritable mountain of books on the subject.

 

Rosie wandered through the aisles, looking for _A Beginner’s Guide to Transfiguration_ .  Finding the section she was looking for, she looked over the various titles: _Applications of the Formula of Transfiguration, Modern Theories on Variable Z, Conjuration: A Detailed Guide, Animagus: Secrets, Shortcuts and Techniques_ (that sounded intriguing - Rosie decided to add it to her pile of books that she intended to buy) _, Vanishment, Intermediate Transfiguration, A Beginner’s Guide to Transfiguration_ \- Ah, there it was.  As she reached for the book, her hand collided with the boy next to her.  He had dark blond hair that swept past his ears, tanned skin, and cool blue eyes.  He looked startled at the contact, quickly withdrawing his hand and stepping back.  Despite his nervous gesture, he did not strike her as being fearful - rather, he seemed guarded, like a predatory creature on unfamiliar territory.

 

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” she exclaimed.  “Were you looking for _A Beginner’s Guide to Transfiguration_ too?”

 

   “Erm - yes.”  His reply was awkward, as though he wasn’t accustomed to speaking to people.  He glanced at her face, then at the book, and then back at her face.  Her curious expression seemed to unnerve him, and he looked back at the book, keeping his gaze fixed there.

 

  “Are you going to Hogwarts too?” She asked.  He darted a glance at her face, then looked away, back at the books.

 

  “Yes.”

 

  “Oh, then we’ll be in the same year!  I don’t know anyone who will be in the same year as me.”  There was a moment of awkward silence, as Rosie searched her mind for a way to fill the space.  “My name’s Primrose.  What’s yours?”  

 

He paused for a moment, as though debating whether to tell her.  “Romulus.”

 

   “Delighted to meet you, Romulus,” said Rosie, good manners kicking into action.

 

  “Ah - indeed.” Romulus seemed to be searching for the appropriate words for the situation.  “The pleasure is mine.” Rosie broke out into a wide smile.  Romulus’s voice was a soft tenor, slightly deeper that most boys of eleven.  His reactions seemed rather curious, but it wasn’t off putting.  In a way, he reminded her of Harry.  He seemed familiar, though she was certain she had never met him before.  Rosie’s smile seemed to startle him, as though no one had ever smiled at him before.  His expression was almost incredulous, which made Rosie laugh.  He suddenly became very guarded, his blue eyes cold.  Seeing the rapid change in his expression, Rosie felt she had to explain.

 

 “I wasn’t laughing at you - I’m sorry - it’s just - your reaction.  You act like no one has ever smiled at you before.” Rosie smiled nervously at him.  His gaze was assessing, and it was odd that he could meet her eyes now, when he couldn’t before.  The tension suddenly seemed to disappear, and he smiled weakly.  

 

  “I’m not used to - people,” Romulus said.  Rosie nodded.

 

  “I mostly just talk to Harry - that’s my brother, and Sirius - My godfather.  I hope-” she paused. “I hope it won’t be too difficult to make friends at Hogwarts.”  It felt strange, revealing her vulnerabilities to a stranger, but something about him made her want to reassure him that she could understand his feelings.

 

  “I’m not there to make friends,” he replied, rather bluntly, but in an oddly impersonal matter, as though he were just stating a fact (as opposed to rebuffing her).

 

  “What are you going for then?” she asked, curious.  He seemed to contemplate her question, his brow furrowed in thought.

 

  “I don’t know.”

 

Flourish and Blotts was still rather crowded, and at that moment, a man with long blond hair, and a bearing that was the very essence of “pure-blood” bumped into Romulus.  The man gripped his walking stick tightly, and Rosie’s eyes were drawn to the silver-snake head that decorated the top of it.  

 

The stately man looked down at Romulus and sneered.  

 

  “I didn’t know Flourish and Blotts were serving mongrols now,” he said with a haughty sort of mockery.  Romulus paled, and his body language exuded tension.  Rosie thought she heard a snarl from him, but without a backwards glance at Rosie, Romulus stalked off.  The blond man smirked, and glanced her over as through appraising her worth, before continuing on his business.  The entire experience left her with a sick feeling in her gut. She grabbed her book, and went in search for Harry.

 

Harry had already found all his books, and was reading through one of them when Rosie walked up to him.  He looked up and smiled when he saw her.

 

  “These books don’t seem to be very good,” he said, tilting his head towards the pile on the floor.    
“Whoever this Lockhart is, his books seem more like fantastical tosh, than useful information.  I don’t know how we’re supposed to learn anything from this.”  Rosie looked over at the books, and frowned sympathetically.

 

 “Are you ready to go?” Harry asked.  “Sirius is in the charms section.  Probably looking for something to help him with his latest project.”  Rosie nodded.  They found Sirius, and paid for all their purchases.  The last stop would be Ollivanders.

 

  “Excited, pup?” Sirius asked Rosie.

 

  “Er- yes?” she replied.  It wouldn’t be her first time using a wand - Harry and Rosie had stolen Sirius’s wand and used it more times than she could count.  But it would be nice to have a wand of her own.

 

  “Ollivander is really - odd,” said Harry, trying to find the right words to describe his experience.

 

  “How so?” Rosie asked.  Harry scrunched up his face.

 

  “You’ll see.”  It sounded rather ominous.

 

They walked up to the narrow shop, and Rosie looked up at the peeling gold letters over the door.  Since 382 B.C, the sign said.

 

  “Hm.  That’s almost as old Herpo the Foul.” Rosie commented.  Harry looked up at the sign and smirked.

 

  “Did you read that in one of the Black’s books?” He asked.  There was certainly no shortage of books on the Dark Arts in their home.  Rosie grinned and nodded.

 

  “He’s the first wizard to have successfully created a Horcrux.  He could very well still be alive today.” Rosie wondered what he would look like - a shrivelled old prune, perhaps?  Wizen like a shrunken head?  Harry shuddered at her words.

 

  “I think I remember reading about that.  He hatched a Basilisk, didn’t he?”  Rosie nodded.

 

  “I hope we never meet him,” Harry added, as their group entered the store.  Before Rosie could say anymore, they were greeted by Ollivander himself.

 

  “Ah, Harry Potter!  Holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches.  Supple.  How is the wand treating you?  And this must be Primrose Potter.”

 

The search for Rosie’s wand was nowhere near as arduous as Harry’s experience had been.  In the end, she ended up with a mahogany and phoenix feather wand, pliable, and ten-and-a-half-inches.  “Rather like your father,” Ollivander had said.  “An excellent wand for transfiguration.”  Had he been referring to her father, herself, or both?

 

By the end of the day, Rosie was thinking about suggesting ice-cream at Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlour, but upon seeing Sirius’s rather harried expression, she decided to keep her mouth shut.  It had been a long day for all of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please review! Constructive criticism is welcome too. I'm always looking for ways I can improve. Also, I'm not British, so if anything sounds out of place or jarring, let me know.


	3. Chapter 3

The last week and a half of summer passed rapidly.  Rosie’s birthday was on the 27th, but she and Harry often celebrated their birthday jointly, in mid-August.  Sirius had somehow gotten Kreacher to lavishly decorate the place (red and gold, of course), to the point that even Harry said it was more “Gryffindor” than the Gryffindor tower.  There had been a lavish feast, followed by the “reveal” of several of Sirius’s experimental projects (“and of I would be hardly surprised if any of these mysteriously disappeared and showed up at Hogwarts” wink, wink), and even some fireworks in the backyard.  

 

Harry had invited Hermione and Neville, his two friends at Hogwarts, and Rosie had decided that Hermione was quite nice, though a tad overbearing.  The witch had a head of bushy hair, and slightly over-large front teeth.  She carried herself with an air of eagerness, and her eyes held a keen intelligence.  Hermione couldn’t seem to stop explaining things about Hogwarts to her, and as much as Rosie did want to know about Hogwarts, it was rather overwhelming to hear so much at once.  Hermione also seemed rather bewildered by Sirius, though admittedly, Sirius did tend to often act like an overgrown puppy.  It would have been a stretch to describe Sirius as being ‘parental’ - he was more like their friend than their guardian.

 

Rosie could have also sworn that she saw a tear in Sirius’s eyes at the idea of both of them going off to school.  ‘What will he even do with himself?’ she wondered, and then decided he would probably take advantage of his time to find a new snogging partner every week.  

 

September 1st rolled around, and Sirius brought Harry and Rosie to platform nine-and-three-quarters.  There were families all around, and beyond their chatter could be heard the noise of hooting owls, several annoyed meows and Rosie even thought she heard a toad croaking.  The scarlet Hogwarts Express puffed smoke over the platform.  Harry was pushing the trolley, containing their trunks and Hedwig’s cage.  He had with him his brand new Nimbus Two-thousand-and-one as well.  

 

Harry’s anxiety had been steadily rising in the past week, and it seemed even more intense now that they were on their way to Hogwarts. Primrose looked at Harry with bewildered concern.  She knew he didn’t like being around too many people, but surely, he could be at ease around familiar schoolmates?  He hid his anxiety well, and only the tension in his jaw indicated his stress.  He seemed to be peering through the crowds, hoping to catch sight of his friends.  Rosie nudged his side gently, and gave him a reassuring smile. He smiled back, his tension lessening by a tiny fraction.  It was difficult, being calm when Harry was so stressed.  If not for her nightly meditation practices (that she had learned from one of Sirius’s inherited books called  _ Guide to Advanced Occlumency _ ), she would would have been a nervous wreck.  Sadly, most of the Occlumency techniques were far beyond her abilities or understanding, but she spent each night working on clearing her mind so that was blank and empty.  Somehow, clearing her mind helped her clear her feelings as well.

 

Harry had spotted Neville who was saying goodbye to his parents, and Harry waved him over.  Rosie gave Neville a friendly wave as well, and then looked back at Sirius.

 

  “Are you tearing up, Padfoot?” Rosie asked when she saw Sirius’s eyes shimmering with wetness.

 

  “Me?  Never!” Sirius exclaimed with false bravado.  There was something incredibly endearing about the way he attempted to hold back his feelings, and unable to resist herself, Rosie rushed over and hugged Sirius tightly.

 

  “I’m going to miss you,” she said, her voice muffled by his long jacket.

 

  “Oh, pup,” Sirius murmured, his voice hoarse.  He hugged her back, embarrassed by his sentimentality.  Harry, who noticed their display, couldn’t help but grin.  He joined them in the hug, and as pitiful as it was, Sirius felt that his heart would break, knowing both his pups were leaving him, even if it was only temporarily.

 

They broke the hug as Neville walked over, pulling his heavy trunks behind him, with his toad cradled in one arm.

 

  “Hello Sirius,” Neville said with a broad smile.  “Hey, Harry, Rosie!  Have you seen Hermione?”

 

  “No, but she might already be on the train,” Harry replied.

 

  “We should try and find her.  Maybe she’s saved us a compartment.  C’mon, let’s go.” Neville was already walking towards the train, and Harry and Rosie followed.  Sirius helped them to get their trunks on the train.

 

  “We’ll contact you on the mirror,” Rosie told Sirius, referring to the charmed two-way mirror that they used to communicate.  He nodded, his throat thick.

 

Neville, followed by Harry and Rosie searched through the train compartments looking for Hermione.  Rosie examined the faces of the other students, hoping to catch sight of Romulus, but she didn’t see him anywhere.  They eventually finally found Hermione, sitting in a compartment by herself, a thick tome open on her lap.

 

  “Hey Hermione!” said Neville.  “We didn’t see you on the platform.”

 

  “Hi Neville.  Hi Harry.  Oh, hi Rosie.  My mum and dad dropped me off early,” she explained.  She shifted out of the way so that Neville, Harry and Rosie could tuck their trunks away.  Harry set Hedwig on the seat next to Hermione.  In the confines of the compartment surrounded by friends, Rosie noticed that Harry’s anxiety had lessened significantly.  Harry sat by Hermione, while Neville and Rosie sat across from them.  Neville’s toad sat rather sedately on his lap.

 

  “Whatcha reading?” Harry asked curiously, tilting his head to try and see the cover.  Both had bonded in first year over their fondness of books.  They both had a reputation of practically living in the library.

 

  “ _ Magical Theory: A Supplementary Text _ .” Hermione folded the book to show Harry the title.

 

  “Is it any good?” asked Harry.

 

  “It covers a great deal that wasn’t mentioned in  _ Magical Theory. _  You can borrow it after I’m done, if you’d like.”

 

  “Thanks, ‘Mione!  It sounds really interesting.”  Soon, they could feel the train moving, and they all crowded up to the open window of the train.  Neville waved to his parents telling them that he would write them, while Rosie and Harry waved to Sirius.

 

  “I’ll miss you Padfoot!” Rosie called out, hoping he could hear her over the din.  He was waving back, a solitary figure in his dark clothes, standing on the platform.  The train soon turned a bend and the platform was no longer in sight.  The four of them settled themselves in their seats.

 

  “What did you do this summer?” Rosie asked Neville.  Across from her, Harry had pulled out his schoolbag, to show Hermione the latest book he was reading.  As Neville chattered away about the trip his family took to the Amazon (“You wouldn’t believe the plants they have there, Rosie!  There was this giant swaying bromeliad, more orchids than I can count.  Oh, and the whistling heliconia!  I also collected some seeds from a strangler fig.  I hope to grow one myself!”), Harry and Hermione discussed new and interesting things they had learned.  Rosie peered over at Harry’s schoolbag and noticed a small black book.

 

  “Harry,” she said, when there was a brief lull in Neville’s excited monologue, “What’s that?”  She reached across, and pulled out the old-looking small black book.

 

  “Oh, I just found it amidst my stuff after that day we were in Diagon Alley.  There’s nothing in it.  I suppose it could be used as a diary, but I think I’ll use it to write down my charm ideas.  It’s one of my favourite classes.  Professor Flitwick even showed me a couple of the charms that mum created, back when she was in Hogwarts.”  

 

 “Really?” Rosie knew her mother had been good in charms - Sirius had mentioned it several times - but she didn’t realize that Lily had created her own charms in school.  Harry nodded.  Rosie handed the black book back to Harry and he tucked it back in his schoolbag.

 

  “Some of them are still too advanced for me to try, but there is one I can do.”  Harry pulled out his wand.  Holding it up before him, he made a swirling flick of his wrist. “ _ Anguissillius! _ ”  From his wand, a serpent made of softly glowing green light emerged - the colour almost the same as Harry’s eyes.  It slithered in the air, circling the compartment one or two times with smooth undulating motions before dissolving.

 

  “Wow, that was mum’s?  I wonder why she made it in the shape of a snake.  I didn’t even know she liked snakes.” Rosie was glancing at the spot the snake of light had vanished.

 

  “Yeah, it’s kind of - Slytherin, isn’t it?  I always thought Mum and dad and them hated Slytherins.  That’s why I never really showed anyone.  But it’s still pretty great!”  Harry grinned, and put his wand away.

 

  “Are they really that bad?” Rosie asked.  “I know Sirius has mentioned a few times how much he hates Snivellus - oops, I mean - Snape - Professor Snape, but-”

 

Harry seemed to be wearing a pained expression, and even Neville and Hermione looked upset.

 

  “Professor Snape is awful,” Neville said.  “They way he treats Harry - It’s like he hates you!”

 

  “He’s cruel!” Hermione exclaimed, her eyes shimmering as she considered the injustice of Snape’s treatment towards Harry.  “He’s always insulting you, Harry.  I don’t know how why Professor Dumbledore even allows him to teach.”

 

  “I did melt more than one cauldron,” Harry said darkly, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

 

  “What?” Rosie exclaimed. “But Harry!  We’ve made potions before!  They almost always turn out perfect!”  Indeed, they had tried making numerous beginner-level potions in their makeshift lab in the attic of Grimmauld Place. Harry had always been extremely precise, and Rosie had often admired his skill.  However, through their empathic link, Rosie could sense Harry’s inner turmoil.  He was feeling a distressing mix of shame and fear, and Rosie’s heart ached for him.  Harry would not meet her eyes, and she looked down at his hands which were trembling.  Suddenly, she understood.  Whatever Professor Snape had done to Harry had distressed him to the point where he lacked the physical control that came with calmness.  If his hands trembled in potions class the way they trembled now, it explained why his potions kept failing.

 

  “Harry does understand all the theory,” Hermione was saying.  “And he can answer a lot of Professor Snape’s questions - even on our first day, when the Professor was asking us questions about things that weren’t even in the first year curriculum, like about aconite and bezoars.”

 

  “And it’s not like Harry’s the only one to get his potions wrong,” Neville added.  “But Snape always seems to pick on Harry.  He takes off tons of points unfairly too.  It’s like he’s holding some sort of grudge.  Potions is definitely my worst subject but Snape treats you way worse than he treats me.” Neville was looking sympathetically over at Harry, who had his hands clenched into tight fists.

 

  “And you’ve never gotten less than an E on any of your homework, have you Harry,” Hermione added.  Harry’s lips were pursed, and agitation was rolling off him in waves.  

 

  “Sometimes I get the feeling that Snape hates me because of what dad and Sirius were like.  I know Sirius said that things were bad between them in school, but I didn’t think he’d use it against me,” Harry said gloomily.

 

  “That’s awful!  Do you think he’ll treat me the same way?” Rosie asked, suddenly anxious.

 

  “I don’t know,” Harry replied.  “I hope not.”  His expression was deeply troubled.  Not wanting to cause him more distress, Rosie changed the subject.

 

  “So Harry, did you make much use of that invisibility cloak that you got over Christmas?”  The question seemed to startle Harry out of his troubled state.

 

  “Not really.  Mostly to sneak into the library past curfew, or to visit Hagrid,” Harry replied.  Rosie laughed.

 

  “That sounds like something you’d do,” she said with amusement.

 

  “Did you want to have it?  You might end up using it more than me.”  Rosie gave Harry’s question some thought.

 

  “I don’t know what I’d do with an invisibility cloak.  Perhaps.”

 

  “Well, Sirius did give me the Marauder’s map.  I use that a lot more, to avoid Snape in the halls.  It wouldn’t be fair for me to have both the map and the cloak.  Why don’t you take the cloak?  I can give it to you when we’re settled in.  I don’t want to pull out my trunk for it.”

 

  “Alright then,” Rosie agreed.

 

  “You shouldn’t even be sneaking out after curfew anyway,” Hermione scolded.

 

  “It was only a few times!” Harry responded in defense.  “And nothing really came of it, other than to irritate the Fat Lady in her sleep.”

 

  “Who sent it to you anyway?” Rosie asked, referencing the cloak.

 

  “You know, I never did find out,” Harry replied with a touch of bemusement.  There was silence for a moment, as they all looked out the window, watching the rolling hillside.  Rosie broke the silence soon after.

 

  “Harry wrote to me about how there had been a troll loose in the school.  Did either of you see it?” Rosie asked Hermione and Neville.

 

  “Are you mad?  Of course not!” Neville exclaimed.

 

  “The prefects led us all back to our dorms,” Hermione added.  “The Professor’s took care of it.”

 

  “Were you scared?” Rosie asked.  “It seems terribly dangerous to have a troll rampaging around in the school.”

 

Hermione shuddered.  “It was a bit frightening,” she confessed.

 

  “I wasn’t scared,” Neville added.

 

  “Your parents are Aurors, Neville.  They probably taught you all kinds of ways to protect yourself.”  Rosie gave Neville a pointed look.  Neville grinned.

 

  “They have, actually,” he replied.  “If I didn’t love herbology so much, I’d be an auror.”  Rosie grinned.

 

  “I know.”  There conversation was eventually disrupted by the sound of clattering outside their compartment.  The door of their compartment slid open, and a smiling woman asked them if they wanted anything off the food cart.  Rosie’s and Harry’s bags were already loaded from treats that Sirius had bought them, so they shook their head, but Neville bought several cauldron cakes.

 

  “Want one?” he asked, holding the cake out to the group.  Harry and Rosie each took one and started munching on them after saying thanks, but Hermione declined.

 

After a moment of silence, as the group watched the landscape go by, Rosie spoke up.

 

 “So what happened with that Professor that disappeared?  Quirrell, was it?” Rosie asked.  “Harry mentioned something about it in his letters, but he wasn’t really clear.”  Harry’s face scrunched up.

 

  “I always got headaches in that class,” he muttered with a frown.  Rosie looked at him curiously.  While Harry had been away at Hogwarts, their empathic link became weak, and she rarely sensed anything from him.  The only thing she did sense were the headaches from his scar on his forehead.  Now she knew what was causing it.

 

  “That class was such a joke.  I don’t think Quirrell even knew what he was talking about,” Neville said.

 

  “And the garlic,” Hermione added, unable to hide her distaste.  “But anyway, we never really found out what happened to Professor Quirrell.  He disappeared so close to the end of the year.  Maybe he decided to take a sabbatical.  Professor Dumbledore didn’t explain it very clearly.”

 

  “They say the Defense Against the Dark Arts position is cursed anyway.  It’s hardly surprising that Quirrell didn’t last the year,” said Neville.  “Hopefully this year’s teacher will be better.”

 

  “Gilderoy Lockhart?” Hermione perked up. “I met him at his book signing.  He’s so charming!”  Neville looked at Hermione incredulously.  He had been at Diagon Alley on the same day as her, and had gotten a distinctly different impression of Mr. Lockhart.  Rosie and Harry locked eyes.  Due to Sirius’s tendency to procrastinate, they hadn’t been at Gilderoy Lockhart’s book-signing.  It remained to be seen whether or not he would be a good professor.

 

  “So did Harry tell you about Hagrid’s dragon?” Neville asked Rosie, after a moment. 

 

  “Hagrid had a dragon?” Rosie exclaimed.  Hagrid had been a member of the Order of the Phoenix, just like her parents, the Longbottoms, and several others that they knew, so Rosie was acquainted with Hagrid, even if she wasn’t particularly close to him.

 

  “Yeah, he hatched it in secret, and tried to raise it in the Forbidden Forest,” Neville told her.  “But when Professor Dumbledore found out, he made Hagrid get rid of it.  Said he was endangering the students.”

 

  “Poor Hagrid,” Hermione interjected.  “He was so heartbroken.”

 

  “We’ll have to visit him, and share a cup of tea,” Harry said. “Hopefully he’s feeling better now.  He really loved that dragon.”

 

  “How did he get a dragon in the first place?” Rosie asked.  Harry, Hermione and Neville looked at each other.

 

  “We’re not really sure,” Harry said.

 

  “We should have visited him more.  Maybe if he had more company, he wouldn’t have gone and gotten a dragon,” Hermione said guiltily.

 

  “I’m pretty sure that even if we had visited him every day, he still would have wanted a dragon,” Neville replied, dryly.

 

  “You’re probably right,” Hermione sighed.  They spent the rest of the train ride in silence.  Neville was watching the passing landscape, as the hills became mountains and forests.  Rosie, Harry and Hermione had books to read.  Before long, the sky was beginning to darken, and they could feel the train slow.  Rosie could immediately feel an intense increase in anxiety from Harry.  She looked up at him questioningly, but he kept his eyes on his book, pursing his lips unhappily.  Rosie longed to be able to speak to him in private, to find out what was wrong, but with Neville and Hermione, it would be impossible.  Perhaps it was just his normal social-tension, however, the negative feelings within him seemed more acute than usual.

 

A voice announced that they would be arriving soon, and to leave their luggage on the train.  Rosie suddenly felt very nervous, and combined with the feelings of Harry’s distress, it was near intolerable.  Her sudden emotional vulnerability made her want to hide in the compartment and never leave.  She was glad that the link between her and Harry was mostly one way, so that he could not feel the fear that she felt.

 

Primrose forced herself to take a deep breath, and quieted her mind.   _ Blank and Empty.  Blank and Empty  _ she thought to herself, until the thoughts and emotions within her seemed to slip away into a serene nothingness.  By the time the train stopped, she felt in command of herself, even if she could do nothing about Harry’s emotions.  Long ago, when she had initially come across G _ uide to Advanced Occlumency _ , she had showed the book to Harry, hoping it could help him manage his turbulent fears, but Harry had seemed unable to grasp any of the techniques.  It was rather unfortunate, considering how much it helped her.

 

The students made their way off the train, pushing each other in their eagerness to get off.  It felt good to finally stretch their legs after sitting most of the day.  They exited to a small platform.  The night air had a slight bite to it, and Rosie wished she had something warmer to wear.  From the darkness, she could see a lantern light moving closer towards them.

 

  “Firs’ years! Firs’ years right this way!” Hagrid called out.  He spotted Harry, Hermione and Neville and smiled broadly.  “Hey there, you three!” They waved to Hagrid in reply.

 

  “I’ll see you later, alright?” Harry said to Rosie.  She grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze before letting go.  It touched her heart that he had so much concern for her, when his own anxiety left him feeling like someone had twisted up his guts.  Harry, Neville and Hermione moved with the crowd of students, along the platform and soon they were out of sight.

 

  “Follow me, firs’ years!  This way!” Hagrid was calling out.  “Is that all of yeh?”  As the bulk of the student body went off in the same direction as Harry and his friends, Rosie finally had a chance to look at the other first years.  Unfortunately, in the shadowy darkness, it was difficult to see much of anything at all.  The group stumbled awkwardly down a narrow path.  Each side of them was flanked by impenetrable darkness of what seemed like forests.  As Harry got further and further away, the feeling of anxiousness faded, and Rosie tried to absorb all that was happening around her.

 

  “Almos’ there!” said Hagrid, “round this bend.  Hogwarts is jus’ up ahead.”  The narrow path had widened before an immense lake that looked like a vast pool of black ink.  Across the lake was a magnificent castle, looking like something straight out of a fairy tale.  It had numerous towers and turrets, and it’s windows were glowing with light.  There were boats awaiting them at the shore of the lake, and Hagrid was telling them that only four were allowed for each boat.  As Rosie walked up to the boats, she finally caught sight of Romulus, who looked to be standing slightly apart from everyone.

 

  “Romulus!” she called out.  He turned and looked at her in surprise.  There was recognition in his eyes, but he seemed to be struggling to remember her name.

 

  “Primrose,” he said, finally.  She smiled.  It was a relief to know at least one person.  The pair of them climbed into a boat with a dark-skinned boy, and a girl with shoulder length straggly dirty-blonde hair.  Both of them smiled at Rosie and Romulus before turning their gaze back at Hogwarts.  Rosie noticed that the blond girl had what looked like a magazine in her hands, but in the darkness, she couldn’t see what it was.

 

The fleet of boats all moved off at once, once everyone was settled. It took them across the lake and through a tunnel which led to what seemed like an underground harbour.

 

From there, the first years followed Hagrid as he led them through the castle until they reached an impressive set of oak doors.  They entered the castle, feeling dwarfed by the sheer size of the building.  Most of the students were looking around, with open-mouthed awe.  Hagrid passed the first years off to Professor McGonagall who explained to them about the four houses, house points and the sorting.  Rosie already knew about the four houses from Sirius and Harry, so she only listened with half an ear.  She had hoped Professor McGonagall would tell them more about the sorting, but sadly, she gave no details.  On one side of her stood Romulus, who wore a thoughtful expression.  On the other side of her was the blond girl, whose expression was utterly serene.  Rosie looked down at the magazine she was holding.  It was  _ The Quibbler _ !

 

   “You read  _ The Quibbler _ too?” she exclaimed excitedly, feeling the tendrils of hope that she might be meeting a new friend.  The girl looked over at her and gave her a dreamy smile.

 

  “My father’s the editor,” the girl replied, not with a boastful tone, but with a rather misty matter-of-factness.  “When my mother died, he said that death is just another mystery to solve, and that I might find the answer if I keep looking.  Daddy says  _ The Quibbler _ is always uncovering life’s mysteries, so I started reading it after mum died.”

 

  “My mother almost died,” Rosie said.  “When I was one.  I don’t really remember very much of what she was like before, but now - she’s not really - that is to say-”  Luna glanced at Rosie through her protuberant silvery-grey eyes with a look that was oddly wise and knowing for her young years.  Somehow, Luna’s tranquil and accepting gaze calmed her down.

 

  “My mother died when I was nine.  She was an extraordinary witch.  She liked to experiment with spells.  One of my favourite spells was the one that gave form to imaginary creatures.  Creating fantastical things was something we liked to do together.” Luna’s smiled wistfully, and there was a shadow of sadness in her eyes.

 

  “She sounds like she was an amazing person.  I wish I had gotten the chance to know my mum before she was - um - changed.  I do know that she was good with charms.  Harry showed me one of the charms she had created.” Both girls fell silent for a moment, lost in thoughts of the past.

 

 “What’s your name?” Rosie asked curiously, but before the girl could answer, several of the first years began to shriek.  The ghosts had floated into the room, but Harry had told her all about them in his letters last year, so she was unsurprised.  Nonetheless, she still examined them curiously.  Nearly Headless Nick was immediately identifiable.  The ruff around his neck was rather distinctive, and Rosie was glad that ruffs were no longer in fashion.  Harry had had a lot to say about Nearly Headless Nick.  She was able to recognize the Fat Friar as well.   However, she was unsure when it came to the other ghosts.

 

Professor McGonagall had finally returned and she led the group of them into the Great Hall.  The sight that greeted her was even more awe-inspiring than what Harry had described.  The multitude of floating candles gave the room a warm glow, and above the candles appeared what looked like the starry night sky.  There ahead, were the four long tables, with the single one for the teachers at the top of the hall, just as Harry had said.  

 

Rosie looked over at the teachers, wondering if she could identify Professor Snape based on Harry’s descriptions: sallow skin, a hooked nose, and greasy hair that just skimmed his shoulders.  She wanted to know who to watch out for when the time came.  As the first years followed Professor McGonagall towards the head table, Rosie spotted him.  At that very moment, he had been looking over at the first years, and his eyes met with hers.  Rosie felt immediately frozen.  There was an almost startled expression in his eyes, and it felt as though his black gaze was boring into her soul.  She felt goosebumps on her skin, and longed to look away, but she felt like a rabbit who had just caught sight of a fox, and was frozen in place, not daring to make a wrong move.  It was he who broke the eye contact first, and Rosie suddenly felt as though she could breath again.   _ Blank and empty, blank and empty _ she thought, trying to calm her racing heart.  It didn’t help that here in the Hall, she was closer to Harry, whose anxiety rippled through her, making her feel vulnerable and helpless.  Suddenly, she wished the day would just end.

 

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

 

Severus Snape sat at the High Table in the Great Hall, trying to ignore the self-aggrandizing inanities flowing from Gilderoy Lockhart’s mouth.  The man was wearing flashy robes of royal purple, and waving his hands over the table, talking about how this feast was nothing compared to the lavish feasts served by the Royal Prince’s of the Turkish Kingdom (“and of course, I was given a place of honour next to the Royal Prince himself.  He tried to offer me his own seat, but I most gracefully declined, of course.  It’s all in my book.  I’m sure you’ve read it.”)  Severus was making no effort to be polite.  As a matter of fact, his manners would be more accurately described as downright rude.  Lockhart was waving his hands about, enthralled by his own descriptions of himself, and Severus was all but sneering at the man.  How Lockheart could manage to twist Severus’s expressions in his mind to convince himself that Severus was interested in what he had to say was beyond understanding.  The man was completely, irritatingly clueless.

 

Severus looked over to his Slytherins seating at their long table.  He was pleased to see that their manners were as good as ever - unlike the Gryffindor table across the hall.  It was as though Albus Dumbledore had decided to admit a band of orangutans rather than young witches or wizards.  It was a disgrace, really.

 

Lockhart was now going on about the time that he took on an entire gang of trolls (while injured, of course.)  “-and once I defeated their leader, they saw me as one of their own. Their alpha, you might say.  It was easy to keep them all in line after that.  My book  _ Travel with Trolls _ goes on in great detail about it.”

 

It was almost a relief when Minerva McGonagall walked through the double doors into the Great Hall with the first years following behind her like a row of gawking little ducklings, looking both doltish and scared all at once.  It looked like another uninspiring bunch this year.  Though admittedly, this group would surely be better than last year’s deplorable offerings.  Afterall, last year was the year when he had the misfortune of meeting the Bumbling-Idiot-Who-Lived.  He would forever rue the day when that particular brat walked into his potions classroom.  Nothing and no one was safe when he was near.

 

At the beginning of the term last year, Albus had beseeched Severus to keep an eye out for the boy.  “For Lily’s sake,” he had said, manipulative wizard that he was.  Severus had not been looking forward to the duty, but considering how timid the boy was, at least that made his job easy.  Other than one incident on the Quidditch pitch, and the one fight in the halls, the boy had avoided trouble.  Well, avoided trouble outside the potions classroom.  Inside the potions classroom, he was a walking hazard.

 

As the first years followed timidly behind Minerva, he swept his gaze over them.  There were a few faces that looked vaguely familiar, in the way that pureblood faces tended to pass down their features, generation after generation.  There was a young boy with dark brown hair who was likely a Selwyn.  And girl wearing a imperious expression who was probably a Rowle.  The rest of the faces seemed unfamiliar.  There were a few that were obviously muggleborn - the children that flinched at everything in sight, or gawked like twits who had left their dignity behind at the front door.

 

Suddenly, he noticed another familiar face and it felt as though his heart had momentarily stopped.  Their eyes had met, and his first thought was: Lily.  Obviously, it wasn’t Lily of course.  The girl had long black hair, and her eyes weren’t the same shade of brilliant emerald green.  It was a little harder now to appreciate bright emerald green eyes when they existed on the face of his least-favourite student, the ever-disappointing Potter.  Nonetheless, the girl before him had Lily’s face.  It was unnerving, the way she wouldn’t look away from him.  He was accustomed to students fearing him, and the way that the girl looked at him reminded him painfully of Lily, and her vivacious and open nature.  He broke eye contact, turning his gaze back to his Slytherins.

 

He had, of course, heard that the Potters had had another child, but he hadn’t given it much thought.  Afterall, all anyone ever heard about was the Boy Who Lived.  The other one was nothing more but a forgotten shadow, name and face unknown to the world.  He wondered if she resented the way that her brother took all the limelight for himself.  He could imagine Potter being a spoiled, attention-grubbing imbecile like that, completely insensitive to those around him.  Being raised by Sirius only made it so much worse.  Any child raised would be ruined if they had to be raised by a dog.

 

He put the thought from his mind as Minerva brought the Sorting Hat and four-legged stool and placed them in front of the first years.  Another year meant another song.  Perhaps he should mentally review the potions ingredients that he needed to resupply in the meantime.

 

The hat twitched, and all the students turned to look at it as it sang:

 

“In ages old, when I was new,

A thousand years back in the past,

Four wizards whom the whole world knew

Had formed their greatest goal at last.

 

A vision shining in their minds,

Did glitter like a sparkling jewel

To teach the greatest magic skills,

They built the noble Hogwarts School.

 

Come one and all, ye eager souls,

And place me on your heads with grace

No secrets can you hide from me,

As I shall find your rightful place.

 

If working hard to reach your aims

‘s a virtue that sounds nice and grand,

Then Hufflepuff’s the place to be

Where loyal souls can understand.

 

If courage burns bright in your heart

And you are daring, brave and bold

Then Gryffindor will welcome you

For you belong right in their fold.

 

Or could it be that mystery 

and wisdom’s what you want?

In Ravenclaw, you’ll find your wish

And knowledge you shall flaunt.

 

Perhaps your goals are vast and great

And cleverness fulfils your mission

Find your place with Slytherin

And you can reach your grand ambition.

 

So come this way, and try me on

And let us have a little chat

I’ll peer inside your curious minds

For I am the wise Sorting Hat!

 

The hall burst into applause once the Hat had finished it’s song, though Severus’s applause was at best, half-hearted.  Minerva had stepped forward with the parchment that listed this year’s new students, informing them that when their names was called, they were to sit on the stool and be sorted.

 

  “Ancrum, Finley” she called out.  A rather insipid boy stumbled up to the stool, and clumsily placed the hat upon his head.  Severus found himself hoping that the whey faced child wouldn’t end up in Slytherin.

 

  “HUFFLEPUFF!” The hat called out a brief moment later.  The child scampered off to sit with the cheering Hufflepuff table, and Severus breathed a sigh of relief.

 

  “Carter, Maisie”

 

  “GRYFFINDOR!” The girl was grinning as she skipped over to the unruly Gryffindor table.

She was followed by another Gryffindor, one “Creevy, Colin,” who was a rather mousy-looking boy that acted like it pained him to have to sit still.  Looking at the squirming child was giving Severus a headache.  Colin was followed by “Bhatt, Haasa” in Hufflepuff.  Severus found his mind wandering, and he flicked a quick glance over the child that looked so much like Lily.  Would she be sorted into Gryffindor, like the rest of her family?  He grimaced at the thought.  Beside him, Lockhart was making some asinine comment about shaping future wizards.

 

 “Harris, Harper” Minerva called.

 

 “SLYTHERIN!” Severus was at least able to muster a clap for his Slytherins.

 

 “Harwich, Edine,” 

 

  “RAVENCLAW!”

 

Severus found his mind once again wandering.  He probably needed to get more adder’s fork.  He would not be remiss if he were to purchase more Lovage as well.  The current stock he had had not been properly sealed (useless third years!), and had likely lost most of its efficacy from being exposed to the air.  Once the students started getting detentions (and he imagined this would be soon), he would have them prepare some bulbadox juice as well.

 

  “Lovegood, Luna”

 

  “RAVENCLAW!” the hat shouted out. 

 

  “Lupin, Romulus.” 

 

Severus sat up in his seat  and peered at the child when Minerva called the name. Lupin?  He had hoped never to have to hear that particular name again.  Had that werewolf actually managed to beget a child?  Oh, the horror!  Now that he thought about it, he did remember Albus mentioning that they would have a werewolf this year, and to excuse the child on the full moons  Albus had also wanted him to start brewing wolfsbane potion.  He didn’t realize the child would be Lupin’s though.  Curiously, the boy did not bear much resemblance to Remus.  Remus often looked tired, as though he were fading away, but this child had a particular intensity about him.  The hat seemed to take a while to decide how to sort the boy.

 

  “RAVENCLAW!” The hat eventually shouted, and the young Lupin walked over to his cheering table.

 

  “Meakin, Elijah.”

 

  “GRYFFINDOR!” 

 

Next to Severus, Lockhart was now yammering about the different houses.  “I was sorted into Ravenclaw myself.  But the Hat took a long time with me.  Longer than anyone else!  The Hat thought I would do well in any house.  Cunning and ambition, I have plenty.  Bravery and daring, in abundance!  Hard work?  Never let it be said that Gilderoy shies away from hard work!  But in the end, the Hat just decided that I had a mind too intelligent to ignore, so Ravenclaw it was!”

 

Severus looked at Lockhart in disgust.  Did the man ever stop talking about himself?

 

  “Potter, Primrose,” Minerva called.  Severus turned away from Lockhart to peer at the child once again.  She looked calm and poised, and for a brief moment, he found himself admiring her steadiness - especially compared to some of the other first years.  But immediately after, he shook the thought from his mind.  She was probably nothing like Lily.  It wouldn’t do to be taken in by that face.

 

  “RAVENCLAW!” shouted the hat.  Severus looked at her curiously as she walked over to her table.  So, not a Gryffindor then.  There might be hope for her yet.

 

Severus listened to the rest of the sorting with only half an ear.  He had been right about Selwyn (Luthais was the boy’s name) and Rowle (Astrid).  Both of them had been sorted into Slytherin, unsurprisingly.  There was also yet another Weasley (Ginerva).  Did that family ever stop breeding?  After “Wynch, Eleanor,” who was sorted into Hufflepuff, the sorting was finally done.  

 

Albus was on his feet soon after, welcoming all the new students, and throwing in his own brand of nonsensical statements.  Finally, it was time to eat.


	4. Chapter 4

Primrose had seated herself at the Ravenclaw table next to the dirty-blonde Luna Lovegood and Romulus Lupin.  One of the Ravenclaw prefect had introduced herself to the first years (her name was Penelope “but please, call me Penny” Clearwater and she had long, curly hair).  After Professor Dumbledore’s odd speech, food began to appear on the table.  By their table, a serene ghostly lady in old fashion gowns gilded around, watching over the Ravenclaws.  “That’s the Grey Lady,” Penny had informed them, as the ghost gracefully inclined her head in their direction.  “She’ll help you if any of you are in lost or in trouble.”

 

Despite Rosie being aware of Harry’s feeling of anxiety which had not yet died down, and her own mind swirling with racing thoughts, she still had her appetite.  Unlike Harry, she rarely ever lost her appetite, and almost never skipped meals.  Looking at the selection before her, she piled her plate with roast chicken, lamb chops, peas, carrots, and a warm dinner roll.  As she started to eat, she peeked at speculatively at Romulus.  She hadn’t realized that he had any relation to Remus Lupin, though perhaps there were other Lupins out there that she did not know about.  She did know that Remus used to be close friends with Sirius and her mum and dad.  After her parents died, Sirius told her and Harry that Remus just sort of disappeared, and he never heard from him again.

 

Growing up, she had felt a lot of curiosity about Remus Lupin.  Harry had vague memories of him, and Harry remembered Remus being very nice.  She knew that Sirius and her father had become animagi to support Remus.  It made her wonder whether Remus had found someone else to support him.  Perhaps so, if he had a son.  Sirius had mentioned that Remus had been fairly bookish.  Sirius himself certainly wasn’t.  It left Rosie wondering if she would have gotten along well with Remus.  She rather thought she would have liked him.

 

Romulus was eating his food silently, not engaging in the conversation around him.  The boy next to him seemed to have given up trying to draw Romulus in conversation.  Romulus’s plate consisted of mostly meat: roast beef, lamb chops, sausages, and a smattering of peas.  Since Romulus seemed very intently focused on his food, Rosie turned to the girl next to her, Luna.

 

   “I’m glad we got sorted into the same house, Luna” Rosie said.  “Did the hat say anything to you?”

 

  “Hmm - something about original ideas, and how I had a lot of my mother in me.  I think the hat also knows about the nargles,” Luna replied serenely.  “What about you?”

 

  “It was trying to decide whether to put me here, in Hufflepuff or in Gryffindor.  Apparently I have a very loyal heart.  My brother is in Gryffindor.”

 

  “Harry Potter?” Luna replied.

 

  “Do you know him?” Rosie asked, before realize it was a rather pointless question.  Everyone in the wizarding world knew The Boy Who Lived.

 

   “Daddy wrote a few articles about him,” Luna murmured, as she sedately ate some potatoes.  Rosie considered her words.  She hadn’t recalled ever seeing an article about Harry in  _ The Quibbler _ \- perhaps it was written in the older magazines, before she had subscribed.

 

  “Are those - Dirigible-plums?” Rosie asked, which she noticed Luna’s earrings.  Luna lit up.

 

  “Oh yes!  Daddy says they enhance the wisdom of the wearer.”  Luna looked particularly proud of her earrings.

 

  “I had dirigible-plum ice cream once.  It was delicious!” Rosie replied.

 

  “Ice-cream?  I haven’t tried them like that.”

 

  “I had it at  [ Florean Fortescue ](http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Florean_Fortescue) ’s Ice Cream Parlour at  Diagon Alley.  You know how once a month, they have new and unusual one-time magical flavours?  That’s when I tried it.” Rosie loved the magical-flavour specials, but admittedly, sometimes they had less than pleasant after-effects.  One time, she had tried a flavour that had left her weeping for nine hour straight.  It had tasted wonderful, but she didn’t think she would ever want to eat it again.

 

  “My mother used to always take me out for ice cream,” Luna said wistfully.  “But daddy says that brain-freezes attract knurly-tailed-gelumrudimps.” 

 

  “If you eat ice cream slowly, you're less likely to get brain freezes.  We should go there sometime.”  Luna seemed pleased by Rosie’s suggested, and smiled warmly.

 

Across the table, Rosie could hear the other first-years talking about the upcoming lessons.  Many of the Ravenclaws had already read their textbooks, and they were exchanging their thoughts on what they had read (“I already know the mending charm. Mother often let us practice with her wand.” “I wish I could skip ahead in History of Magic.  I know all of the first year curriculum already!” “I was reading about bowtruckles for DADA.  You know, I saw one once in the forest near my home.”) 

 

Rosie peeked a glance back at Romulus, but he still remained unengaged from everyone around him.  The plates of food had disappeared, and in their place were all kinds of dessert.  Delighted by the selection, Rosie took some rice pudding and some trifle.  Romulus did not seem particularly interested in the dessert.

 

  “Have you decided what you’re here for yet?” she asked him suddenly, referencing their first conversation.  He looked at her, his blue eye inscrutable.  He shrugged.

 

  “It’s still too early to say,” he replied.  He didn’t seem inclined to continue the conversation, but she found herself curious about him - especially whether or not he had a link to Remus.

 

Unable to help herself, she blurted out: “Are you related to Remus Lupin?” 

 

He tilted his head, as though contemplating whether or not to answer.

 

 “He’s my adopted father.  Do you know him?” 

 

 “Not exactly.  He was friends with my dad and my godfather.  But they haven’t spoken to him in ages.  What’s he like?” Rosie couldn’t help being curious.

 

  “Remus?  Um.  Remus is - Remus.  He likes to read.”  Romulus didn’t seem to have anything more to add, and Rosie didn’t push him.  She had finished her plate of food, and she was looking towards the Gryffindor table for Harry.  Harry was seated between Hermione and Neville, and he appeared to be in conversation with Hermione.  Though he appeared relaxed on the outside, she knew that his appearance did not reflect his feelings.  She casted a glance at the other tables and then looked up at the Head Table.  Professor Snape did not look her way, for which she was relieved. 

 

She recognized Gilderoy Lockhart because his picture had been on the back of all of Harry’s textbooks.  He had wavy blond hair, and his teeth were almost blindingly white (he seemed to like to flash them often.)  His robes were a brilliant royal purple, and looked to be exquisitely tailored.  He did not look like he would be particularly proficient in defense, but she knew that looks could be deceiving.

 

Harry had told her Professor McGonagall taught Transfigurations.  From Harry’s descriptions, she guessed at the identity of the diminutive Professor Flitwick.  Before long, the desserts vanished as well, and Professor Dumbledore stood up to make another announcement.

 

   “Now that we are all fed and watered, I’d like to have your attention while I give out a few start-of-term notices,” he said.  He informed them that the Forest was out of bounds to students, and a list of things that Mr Filch declared was against the rules.  Professor Dumbledore also mentioned Quidditch trials, but Rosie generally had little interest in Quidditch.  She would go to the games to support her brother, who was Gryffindor’s seeker, but aside from that, she had other things she would have preferred to do with her time.  Even if Quidditch didn’t interest her, she was very proud of her brother being the youngest Seeker.  He had told her in great detail (in a letter) about the incident with Neville’s Remembrall - a gift from his grandmother.  Neville wasn’t particularly close to his grandmother, but he still had valued the gift.  Apparently, some bratty Slytherin had taken it tried tossing it as far as he could throw.

 

  “We have had a change in staffing this year,” Dumbledore continued.  “We are pleased to welcome Professor Lockhart, who will be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts.”  There was a polite applause after his speech, and Professor Lockhart stood up from his seat, and bowed gracefully.

 

  “Thank you, thank you!” Professor Lockhart was saying as he waved at the crowd, but no one really seemed to be paying any attention to him.  Finally, Professor Dumbledore announced that it was bedtime, and the students stood up to leave.  

 

Penny Clearwater indicated for the first years to follow her, and they exited the Great Hall.  She explained a bit about Hogwarts as she led the group of first years through the castle.

 

  “Keep an eye out for Peeves,” she warned.  “He’s the poltergeist.  But you’re Eagles now.  You should be able to outwit him.  Don’t hesitate to ask any of the prefects, or even the ghosts and portraits if you lose your way.  We’re here to help you.”  They went up a staircase, past several hallways from which chattering portraits hung, through several and turns, and even behind a tapestry until they reached the spiral staircase that led to the Ravenclaw tower on the west side of Hogwarts.  The door to the Ravenclaw common room had no door knob that Rosie could see, and all the first years looked at it curiously.  There was a bronze knocker in the shape of an eagle.

 

  “To enter the common room, you’ll have to answer a riddle asked by the door knocker” Penny informed them.  “If you answer incorrectly, you’ll have to wait until someone else comes by who gets it right.”

 

Penny turned towards the door and lifted the knocker, knocking it once.  The bronze eagle spoke:

 

_ I have four wings, but cannot fly, _

_ I never laugh and never cry; _

_ On the same spot I'm always found, _

_ toiling away with little sound. _

_ What am I? _

 

After giving it a moment’s thought, Penny said: “A Windmill” and the door opened into the common room.  

 

The first years spilled into the Ravenclaw common room, and gasped with delight at the sight that met their eyes.  The room was large, round and airy.  The plush carpet beneath their feet was a deep midnight blue.  Above their heads, the ceiling was a round dome painted with stars.  It did not have the same effect as the Great Hall, but it had its own sort of beauty.  There were arched windows placed at even intervals all around the common room, which were draped with bronze and blue silks.  There were bookcases, tables and chairs throughout the common room for students to use and to study.  A white marble statue of Rowena Ravenclaw stood next to the doors leading up to the dormitories.  The expression on the statue's face was serene and wise.

 

  “Many of us refer to Ravenclaw tower as our Nest.  But this is just between us.  This leads to the girls’ dormitory,” Penny indicated, “and this one leads to the boys.  I can see that you’re all about to fall asleep on your feet so off you go.  Good night, little Eaglets!  Your trunks have already been brought up to your rooms’”   The tired students made their way up to their rooms.

 

Rosie looked at the dormitory room with interest.  There were four four-poster beds draped with rich, blue velvet hangings.  Their trunks sat on the floor at the end of each of the beds.  The two other girls that Rosie and Luna shared their room with were  Edine Harwich and Sakiko Kajiwara.  All of the girls were too tired to speak.  Changing into their pyjamas, they crawled tiredly into bed.  Rosie’s last thought before she fell asleep was: ‘I miss you, Snuffles.’

 

Primrose woke up with a jolt, feelings of anguish and fear soaking into her skin.   _ Harry _ , she thought.  He was having nightmares again.  She should go into his room, and wake him up.  As she sat up in her bed, she realized that she wasn’t at home in Grimmauld Place.  The fabric on her covers felt completely different, and her own four-poster-bed did not have hangings like this one had.  She was in Ravenclaw tower, and Harry was in Gryffindor.  Even if she knew where Gryffindor tower was, she doubt that she would be able to get into their common rooms.

 

She wondered what dream he was having this night.  All of his nightmares were dreadful - worse because all of them were based on reality.  She breathed deeply, and emptied her mind, but this only settled her own feelings, and did nothing to alleviate what she felt from Harry.  It was unlikely that she’d be able to fall asleep again feeling like this.  She felt emotionally tired - she missed Sirius, and she missed Harry.  True, Harry was in the same school as her, but he felt like he was a world away.

 

She pushed the bed hangings aside, and climbed out of bed.  It was fortunate that the dormitory floors were covered with beautiful, intricately patterned blue and bronze rugs.  If she had to walk barefoot on stone floors, it would have been intolerably cold.  There wasn’t a hint of paleness in the sky outside the window.  She wasn’t sure what time it was - past midnight surely, but not yet 4 or 5am.  She could hear the soft breathing of her dorm mates.  They seemed to be sleeping peacefully.  Tiptoeing quietly (though the carpet muffled her steps anyway), she climbed down the spiraling stairs into the common room.

 

The common room was empty, but she expected it to be at this time of night.  It was dimly lit by a solitary torch.  She sat in a seat next to one of the windows that overlooked the forests beyond.  It all looked like shades of black or blackish blue outside the window.  There was nothing that could really be seen.  She kept her mind blank, like a shield of sorts, around Harry’s tumultuous emotions.  

 

Sometimes, when she sat, and simply felt what Harry was feeling, it was as though she could isolate it within herself.  The feelings were usually in the back of her head, or in her throat, but if they were particularly intense, she could sometimes feel them in her chest and arms.  It always had an amorphous quality to it, like it lacked any border or edges.  Yet, paradoxically, she was also always able to separate Harry’s emotions from her own.  It had the quality of being like a double image, where one picture was overlaid with another.  Eventually Rosie drifted off to sleep in the chair without realizing she had done so.

 

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

 

Romulus woke up during the night and was unable to fall asleep again.  This was normal for him.  He often kept odd hours, taking naps throughout the day and night, rather than fully sleeping the night through.  The erratic schedule suited him better than a normal schedule, but it also meant that he spent more hours awake than most people.  He sat up in his four-poster bed, listening to the soft snores of his two roommates, and feeling distracted by the smells of unfamiliar bodies. 

 

As a werewolf, his sense of smell was extremely sharp, but being around so many people was rather overwhelming.  He preferred the scents of the forest.  He did not mind the earthy scent of humans and animals, but people tended to carry other odd scents, from the potions they drank, the clothes they wore or the products they used.  It made it easier to identify people, but it was also unpleasant.  But at least wizards smelled better than muggles.  Whatever strange chemicals it was that muggle put on themselves, it was awful.

 

His mind turned towards the day that had just passed, and he considered the girl, Primrose.  It had been a shock to him that she knew Remus.  Remus did not tend to talk very much about his “old life” (which essentially meant the time before he adopted Romulus).  It was strange to think about Remus’s mysterious past, when he had actual friends.  Aside from Romulus, Remus rarely interacted with anyone else, except for work.  Work in this case consisted of a string of part-time jobs that Remus was constantly fired from, due to his lycanthropy.  

 

Romulus had been nearly eaten by a werewolf when he was only two.  Remus had saved him, but since he was already bitten, he was cursed to become a werewolf himself.  Remus had said that the only reason he had been able to save Romulus was because he had taken an experimental potion that left his human mind in control.  If not that for that, the wolf within him surely would have either left Romulus to die, or would have eaten him.  It was also fortunate that Remus had silver powder and dittany as well to seal Romulus’s wounds.  Though in a moment of darkness, Remus had once confessed to him that he contemplated letting Romulus die, rather than suffer a life of lycanthropy.

 

It was difficult to remember those early days, but he knew that even then, Remus always had an air of tiredness about him.  Yet, Remus was gentle, kind and understanding as well.  Having been bitten as a child, it had been easier for Romulus to accept the wolf within himself.  If he had been adopted by a pack, he likely would have been living in the woods right now, rather than being here in Hogwarts.

 

There were times when Romulus wondered whether or not he would have been better off with a werewolf pack.  He knew the life of a werewolf was extremely harsh.  However, Remus was like a father to him.  Romulus didn’t mind having to live as more of a human than as a wolf.  The human world had books at least.  Remus’s love of learning had certainly rubbed off on Romulus.  

 

One of Romulus’s favourite topics was potions.  In part, this was because Remus had often lamented his lack of talent in the area.  Romulus was also fascinated by the Wolfsbane Potion as well, and not just because he was a werewolf.  After all, unlike Remus, Romulus had a greater acceptance of his inner wolf.  Wolfsbane potion was an extremely complex and difficult potion to brew.  He had never tried brewing it himself, but he had read the recipe time and time again, and almost knew it by heart.  However, Romulus did have practical knowledge in potions.  Though Remus’s income was rather scant, he always had money for books, or anything related to gaining knowledge.  It was Remus who purchased Romulus’s first potions kit when he was little more than a cub, and encouraged him to explore his interests.

 

Romulus already knew how to brew all the potions in the first year, second year, and third year curriculum, and more than half of the potions in the fourth year curriculum.  He wondered if the potions professor would let him skip ahead in class, but based on the rumours he had heard, the potion master was rather harsh, so it was unlikely.

 

Knowing that he would not be falling back asleep, Romulus silently got out of bed. Taking one of his books, he went down to the common room.  He felt like reading, but he wasn’t able to do so in the dark.  He knew that there was a charm for light, but he hadn’t learned it yet, and he figured that the common room would probably have some sort of lighting.  He was not expecting to see anyone, so it was a surprise when he noticed the girl sitting by the window.  Based on her smell, it was Primrose.  She had a rather pleasant smell, that reminded him of rain but sometimes, he wished she would just leave him alone, like everyone else did.

 

He did not feel like socializing, and almost snuck back up into his bed, but he noticed that she was motionless, and her breathing was deep.  Apparently she had fallen asleep at the chair.  Satisfied that he wouldn’t be interrupted, Romulus took the chair that was nearest to the torch, and sat down, opening his book.  His particular choice this night was  _ Hunting Werewolves _ .  Morbid yes, but he thought it was useful to know how the enemy worked.  It meant that he could be aware of his weaknesses and deal with them before they became a serious problem.

 

Annoyingly, he was barely able to concentrate on his book.  At first, he thought it was the flickering light of the torch, but admittedly, it barely flickered at all.  Then he thought perhaps it was the sound of the wind outside the tower, or the excessive cushiness of the chairs.  He kept reading a paragraph, putting the book down, trying to get comfortable in the plush blue chair, picking the book back up, reading another paragraph and then realizing that he had not even absorbed the words at all.  Dammit!  It was probably the girl’s fault.  He glared at Primrose, but she was in the same position, still sleeping.  It looked incredibly uncomfortable.  Scowling, he looked back down at the page, forcing himself to read, only to realize that he had already read that page.  He huffed with irritation.  Over an hour had passed.  An hour of maddening distractedness.  He looked up at Primrose again, and saw that she was shivering slightly.  ‘Serves her right!’ he thought.  ‘That’ll teach her not to sleep in the common room.”’

 

After another half an hour, it became unbearable.  The words on the page were practically incomprehensible squiggles.  And that dratted girl would not stop shivering!  With an irritated growl, he tromped up to the dormitory rooms, grabbed a blanket, tromped back down, and laid the blanket over the girl.  His hand brushed against her arm, and the contact seemed to startle her awake.  She looked up at him, through sleepy eyes.

 

  “Rom?” She sat up in her chair.  “Oh!  Ow…” she winced, obviously sore from lying in such an uncomfortable position.

 

  “I didn’t mean to wake you,” Romulus said, with a frown.  He was silently cursing himself for his clumsiness.  Now he  _ had _ to interact, when he really didn’t want to.

 

  “Oh, it’s alright,” she replied.  She noticed the blanket, which had not been there before.  “Thank you.  I don’t think I can sleep anymore though.”  She looked out the tower windows.  The sky had the faintest tint of lightness.

 

With a shrug (since he did not know what else to say), Romulus took the blanket back up to his bed.  He changed out of his pyjamas and went back down to the common room, where Rosie was still sitting in the same chair, staring distantly out the window.  She looked over at him as he came down.

 

  “Are you going somewhere?” she asked, noticing his clothes.

 

  “I’m going to explore the castle for a bit,” he replied, walking across the blue carpet towards the common room exiit.

 

  “Can I come with you?” Rosie asked.  He paused in his step, and looked over at her.  Despite the question, she did not seem like she was pleading with him.  She looked vaguely troubled, but aside from that, he couldn’t read her expression.

 

  “Hm.  Alright,” he replied, and then thought he was probably going to regret it.  She would probably talk his ear off the whole time.

 

  “I’m going to change, and then I’ll be right back.” Rosie got up and dashed up the stairs.  She came back down soon after, her robes looking rather haphazard, and Romulus’s lip quirked upwards when he noticed that she hadn’t even bothered to fix her hair.  It was sticking up slightly on one side where she had slept on it.  She smiled at him, and gestured with her head that he was to lead the way.

 

They descended the spiral staircase of the Ravenclaw tower, and at the bottom, Romulus glanced along the hall, trying to decide which direction to go.  He did not consult Rosie.  He simple sniffed the air and chose the route that did not smell as strongly of people.  Many of the portraits were still dozing peacefully, their soft snores echoing through the hall.  They turned a corner, and then turned another.  They climbed up a staircase and came to wide open corridor lined with regal coats of armour, each of them bearing spears or halberds.  The helmets of the coats of armour turned their heads as the pair walked past.  From there, they turned another corner, and then climbed down a wide staircase.  The staircase had a trick step that caused Rosie to fall, but Romulus quickly caught her, and she thanked him.  The came to a door, and had to ask it politely if it would open before they could pass through.  That led to yet another hallway.

 

Along one of the corridors, they came across the Grey Lady.  Rosie gave her a polite greeting (“hello, Grey Lady, it’s a pleasure to see you”) and she curtseyed.  The Grey Lady inclined her head gracefully, and smiled.  Romulus wondered where she had learned her manners from.  Perhaps her home life was very formal, but that didn’t explain why she would decide to dress sloppily this morning.  Aside from that, Romulus was rather pleased that Rosie hadn’t said a word to him the entire time.  He knew she was following because he could hear her footsteps, but aside from that, she was a silent as a ghost - well, perhaps not a ghost, since the ghosts here spoke.  He did not realize that Rosie was distracted by her thoughts and feelings of homesickness.

 

Thanks to Romulus’s nose, they did not end up encountering any people for most of their wanderings, but eventually, the other students were starting to wake, and come down to the Great Hall for breakfast.  Romulus led Rosie to the Great Hall and when Rosie spotted Harry and his friends, she waved to him, and called out “Hi, Harry!” Rosie and Remus walked over to the Ravenclaw table.  Luna was already there, so Rosie sat down next to her, with Romulus on her other side.  Romulus was happy to see that there was an abundance of sausages and bacon for breakfast.  The long walk (and Rosie’s silence) had put him in a good mood.

 

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

 

As Rosie followed Romulus through the castle, she could feel the moment that Harry woke up.  The sense of horror and despair that was concentrated at the back of her head and neck seemed to melt away into Harry’s normal, anxious state.  When she and Romulus entered the Great Hall, she saw Harry with his friends and waved to him.  Hopefully, they would have a chance to speak to each other soon, but she did not know her school schedule yet.

 

Primrose sat down at the Ravenclaw table next to Luna.  The morning walk had made her hungry, and she eyed the selection of food with appreciation.  Edine and Sakiko, her dorm mates sat across from her, eyeing her and Romulus speculatively.

 

  “Where were you this morning?” Sakiko asked.  “We didn’t see you anywhere.” Edine looked at her curiously as well, but Luna seemed as placid as a calm lake, as though it were perfectly normal for people to just vanish for no reason.

 

  “I couldn’t really sleep,” Rosie explained. “I went down to the common room for a bit.  Then Romulus and I decided to explore the castle.”  Edine and Sakiko looked at each other and smirked, but they did not say anything else about the pair.  Something about Romulus’s cold gaze stopped them from further teasing.

 

  “Your hair is sticking up on one side,” Edine said, before biting down on her piece of toast.  Using her hands, Rosie attempted to smooth out her hair.

 

  “Professor Flitwick came up to our common rooms this morning.  He told he was our head of house, and to go to him if we needed anything,” Sakiko told Rosie and Romulus, as she sliced a piece of sausage with her fork and knife.

 

  “Oh, I didn’t realize he would be coming by to speak to us.  Thank you for letting me know,” Rosie replied, grabbing a croissant.

 

  “He just told us a few rules,” Edine added.  “Obvious things, like how we needed to respect one another, and how we weren’t supposed to be wandering around the halls at night.  Oh, and curfew is at 10 o’clock p.m.  He said that the teachers and prefects would take away house points if you’re caught out at night.”

 

  “Try not to get caught,” Sakiko interjected, and she and Edine giggled.  As the Ravenclaws were eating their breakfast, Professor Flitwick came by and handed them their timetables.

 

  “I didn’t see you two this morning,” Professor Flitwick said to Rosie and Romulus.

 

 “I’m sorry professor,” Rosie replied.  “Edine and Sakiko told us the rules.”  The Professor’s eyes twinkled merrily.

 

 “As long as you use that Ravenclaw intelligence and don’t get yourself into trouble, then you should be fine,” he said with amusement in his voice.  “Enjoy your breakfast!”  He wandered off, handing out timetables to the rest of the Ravenclaws.

 

The first years looked over their schedules.  It was a Wednesday today, which meant Transfiguration with the Gryffindors, followed by Herbology with the Slytherins and then Astronomy in the evening, also with the Slytherins.  The first years exclaimed excitedly over their schedules.  Most of them were looking forward to Transfiguration.  Afterall, everyone knew that Transfiguration was considered one of the more difficult topics, and most of the Ravenclaws craved the intellectual challenge.

 

Rosie was interested in Transfigurations, but she was also curious about the classes with the Slytherins.  After all she had heard about Slytherins from Harry and Sirius, she was expecting that the two classes could potentially be rather unpleasant.

 

  “What class are you looking forward to the most?” Rosie asked Luna, who was pouring strawberry syrup into her glass of pumpkin juice.

 

  “Hm.  Defense, I think.  It would be nice to be able to protect myself if I came across an exploding snabberwitch.  They can be rather temperamental.”

 

  “I’ve never heard of exploding snabberwitches before,” Edine interjected.  “What are they?”

 

  “They’re more of a threat to merfolk than to people, but I’m quite certain they can be found in the lake.  They tend to like to remain hidden,” Luna explained serenely.

 

  “Um.  Are you sure they’re real?” Edine asked skeptically.  She looked over at Sakiko, who also had a doubtful expression.

 

 “As sure as I am about blibbering humdingers.”

 

  “Oookay,” replied Edine, her voice laden with doubt.  She shrugged, and decided to talk to Sakiko instead, ignoring Rosie and Luna.

 

After breakfast, the first years all travelled together to Transfigurations, which was on the ground floor.  The classroom was immense, surrounded by high windows with intricate traceries.  There was a desk at the front of the classroom, as well as two chalkboards.  Professor McGonagall was nowhere in sight, but at the desk, there sat a silver tabby.  The Ravenclaws settled themselves at the desks, followed by the Gryffindors.  There seemed to be some empty seats in the room.  Most of the Ravenclaws pulled open their textbooks, and took out their quills and parchment.  Many of the Gryffindors were chatting with each other.  Rosie wondered if the Professor would ever turn up.  Would she really be late for her first class?

 

Suddenly, a pair of Gryffindor girls entered, looking around the classroom with embarrassment.  They sat down with their peers, and seemed to sigh with relief that they had not been caught.  To their dismay, the silver cat leapt off the desk and transformed into Professor McGonagall.

 

  “Miss Spinnet, Miss Carter.  How nice of you to finally show up,” Professor McGonagall said with an expression of disapproval.

 

  “We’re sorry!” the girls chirped.  “We got lost.”

 

Professor McGonagall took roll call before jumping into her lecture.

 

  “Transfiguration is more scientific than many of the other branches of magic.  It is both complex as well as dangerous.”  The Ravenclaws and even the Gryffindors seemed to perk up at her words.  Professor McGonagall continued by giving them a warning that they were not to fool around or else they would be ejected from class.  The Ravenclaws nodded in understanding.  The Gryffindors looked nervous.

 

As a demonstration, she changed one of the chalkboards into a tortoise, and then back again, filling the students with awe.  Rosie was as impressed as the rest of the students, but she knew that object-to-animal Transfigurations were more complex, and it would likely be a while before the students could attempt those.

 

The Professor started writing out complex notes, formulas and diagrams on the chalkboards, and the students scribbled rapidly to copy out the notes.

 

  “You’ll start by transfiguring a match into a needle today,” she informed them.  By the end of class, many of the Ravenclaws (including Rosie, Romulus and Luna) had gotten partial transfigurations.  However, none of the Gryffindors had managed to do so.  The Professor gave five points to each of the Ravenclaws who had partially succeeded, and they all beamed happily.

 

The next class was Herbology with the Slytherins which was in ‘greenhouse one’ at the back of the castle.  Professor Sprout was brisk and friendly. She had all the students line up before the tables so that they could view the specimens in front of them.  Some of the plants seemed to be wiggling, and others bounced.  Rosie peered over at the Slytherin’s curiously.  They looked pretty ordinary to her.  They were slightly standoffish, but then again, so were the Ravenclaws.  Only one Slytherin, a girl with pale ash blonde hair named Astrid, seemed unpleasant.  The girl was looking around the greenhouse with an expression of disdain, as though she could not bear being surrounded by dirt.  The girl next to her, who had a rather plain face, seemed to mimic the blonde girl, though not to the same degree of success.

 

 “Can anybody identify any of the plants or fungi on the table?” Professor Sprout was asking, after taking roll call.  Rosie looked over at the specimens, and recognized one.

 

She pointed at the pink pod shaped plant.  “That one’s a Puffapod.” 

 

  “Just so!  Ten points to Ravenclaw,” said Professor Sprout.   _ Thanks Neville _ , Rosie thought to herself.  The Professor explained the rest of the specimens, and had each of them handling the plants with care.  However, one of the plants, a young Bouncing Bulb slipped from one of Ravenclaw’s hands and started bouncing across the greenhouse.

 

  “Oh dear, they can be aggressive if they feel threatened,” Professor Sprout was saying.  “Gently now, let’s try and catch it before it causes too much mischief.”  The act of dashing around the greenhouse, trying to catch a stray Bouncing Bulb seemed to have broken the ice between the Ravenclaws and Slytherins and when one of the Slytherins, a dark-skinned, black-haired boy named Harper Harris finally caught it, they Ravenclaws and Slytherins were grinning at each other.

 

 “Good catch, Harris,” one of his friends was saying, patting his back.

 

After Herbology was lunch in the Great Hall.  Harry was at the Gryffindor table with his friends, and when he saw her, he waved her over.  He made a space for her next to him and Neville, inviting her to sit.

 

  “Hi Neville, Hi Hermione,” she said, smiling at them.  She looked over at her brother.  His anxiety seemed to be at a stable, though high level.  He was nowhere near as relaxed as he would be at home with her and Sirius, but he wasn’t as intensely anxious as he had been yesterday.

 

  “I brought the cloak for you,” he said, handing her the invisibility cloak.

 

  “Oh, thanks, Harry.  I can’t imagine what I would do with it though.”

 

  “I’m sure you’ll think of something,” he replied, with an amused smile, though his smile had a slight brittle quality.  “How is your first day of classes so far?  Are you liking Ravenclaw?”

 

Before Rosie could respond, one of Harry’s housemates interrupted. “Oi, Potter!” a sandy haired boy up the table called out with a smirk, causing Harry to flinch. “Are ye such a coward that ye need girls to protect ye, then?”  The red-headed boy and dark-skinned boy next to him snickered.

 

 “He’s so twitchy, he could probably change places with the snitch, and no one would notice,” the red-headed boy added.

 

  “Shut up, Ron!” Hermione called out in irritation.  “You’re just jealous that he’s the seeker and you’re not.”

 

  “Ignore them, Harry,” Neville was saying to Harry.  “They’re just mad because Snape hates you and took away so many points.  It’s not your fault Snape is such a git”

 

  “He single-handedly caused us to be in last place in the house cup!” Ron, the redhead exclaimed indignantly.

 

  “He doesn’t deserve to be in this house.” the dark-skin boy said.  “He doesn’t have an ounce of bravery.”  

 

  “He’s practically afraid of his own shadow,” the sandy haired boy added with a smirk.  Harry was flushed with embarrassment, and his anxiety level increased.  The other boys seemed satisfied to have humiliated him, and went back to their own conversation.

 

 “Are they always like this?” Rosie asked Harry softly, after glaring angrily at the other boys.  She had never wanted to hex someone so badly in her life, but all the hexes she knew were from the Black family library, and they were closer to curses than hexes.  Some of them were even potentially fatal.  Plus, the teachers were watching from the Head Table, and it wouldn’t do to get detention on the first day of class.

 

 “They’re not so bad,” Harry was saying, but Neville cut him off by interjecting, “They’re awful.  They’re always stealing Harry’s stuff, and leaping out of dark corners, yelling at him to try make him jump.”

 

Suddenly she could see how Harry wouldn’t be able to relax, even when he was in Gryffindor Tower.  She was shocked that the Gryffindors could be such bullies.

 

  “They weren’t so bad at the beginning of the year last year,” Neville continued to explain. “But then in Potions, Snape started singling Harry out more and more.  It’s gotten to the point where Snape barely takes any points off the other Gryffindors, and only takes points off Harry.  He practically singlehandedly turned half the Gryffindors against Harry.  The other half like him because he’s a good Seeker though.”  Rosie frowned.  That was a very cynical assessment of Gryffindor house.

 

  “One time when, Seamus, Ron and Dean found out what happened to - well, your parents - they started making fun of Harry for being - erm, these are not my words, but they said Harry was crazy like them,” Neville continued, and Rosie paled.  “Harry started hexing them, and a fight broke out in the halls.  Snape came along and blamed Harry for starting the fight.  He took thirty points off Harry, and only five for the rest of them.”  Neville scowled, and Rosie was almost trembling with rage.

 

  “Can’t you do anything about Snape?” Rosie asked angrily.  “Speak to the headmaster, or something?”

 

  “We tried once, but Professor Dumbledore just said something vague about how Snape is on our side, and that we needed to be understanding,” Hermione said.

 

  “Which is complete rubbish,” Neville added.

 

  “Forget about it,” Harry said, clenching his jaw.  “It doesn’t matter.  How was your first day of classes, Rosie?” Harry seemed determine to change the topic.

 

  “I just had Herbology with the Slytherins,” she told him in a subdued voice because mood had been spoiled.  Harry scrunched up his face.

 

  “They didn’t seem so bad,” she said.  “Well, maybe one of them.  I think her name was Astrid or something, but she mostly just acts like a snob.”

 

  “What about your housemates?  And Ravenclaw?”

 

  “Ravenclaw is good so far.  It is a little sad that we aren’t in the same house though.”  Harry nodded sympathetically as he listened to Rosie.  “Though if other Gryffindors are like those guys, maybe it’s a good thing.”  Harry’s expression darkened.  

 

  “They’re not all bad,” he said, his voice soft and not entirely convinced.

 

  “And as for my housemates, well, there’s one girl, Luna, who seems really nice.” Rosie looked over at the Ravenclaw table.  “That blonde girl, over there.”  Rosie waved at Luna, who smiled back serenely.  “Oh, and Romulus.”

 

  “Romulus Lupin?” Harry asked.  “Is he related to Remus?”  This topic seemed to have completely distracted Harry from the earlier incident.

 

  “Yeah, Remus adopted him.”  Harry looked over at the Ravenclaw table curiously. 

 

 “Did he tell you anything about Remus?” Harry asked.

 

 “Not very much.  Except that Remus likes to read.”

 

 “Maybe we should write him.  I have Hedwig after all.  D’you think he’d write back?”

 

  “I don’t know.  I think we should try.  I’ll try and think of something to write him tonight.”  Harry and Rosie then exchanged their timetables, and determined that each of them had Tuesdays, Thursdays and Fridays free in the late afternoon.

 

  “Why don’t we meet up tomorrow afternoon here in the Great Hall. I’ll bring the mirror and we can talk to Sirius.” 

 

  “Okay,” Rosie cheerfully agreed, before heading back to the Ravenclaw table.

 

Since the Ravenclaws had a break in the afternoon, most of them went back to the Ravenclaw Nest.  Rosie stashed the invisibility cloak away with her other belongings when they were back in their dorm rooms.

 

It was only Luna and Rosie - Edine and Sakiko were in the common room.

 

  “What’s that?” Luna asked, curiously, noticing that Rosie was tucking the shining cloth amongst her belongings.

 

  “An invisibility cloak,” Rosie replied.  “I got it from Harry.”

 

  “Can I see?” Rosie nodded, and took the cloak back out, handing it to Luna.  Luna took the cloak, examining it with care.  It’s silvery quality made it look almost liquid in Luna’s hands.

 

  “A Hallow,” she said, before handing the cloak back.

 

  “Excuse me?”

 

  “Daddy is always talking about them.  The three Hallows.” Luna smiled dreamily.  “He’ll be ever so excited when I write him about this.”

 

  “As if in,  _ Tales of Beedle the Bard? _ ”  Thinking of those stories made her feel nostalgic.  Sirius used to read those stories to her and Harry when they were kids.  Harry and Rosie had begged to hear the stories so frequently that even now, if either Harry or Rosie mentioned Beedle the Bard to Sirius, he would turn slightly green.  Rosie looked at the cloak speculatively, and her mind raced with ideas.  Think of all the research she could do on the cloak if indeed it was a Hallow!  What an excellent opportunity.  Sirius had said the stories were a myth, but she never wanted to believe him.  This could be her chance to prove him wrong.  She knew she shouldn’t get her hopes up though.  Whether or not it was a Hallow, invisibility cloaks were still rare, and a potentially useful gift to have.  If only she could think of what to use it for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I'm not Ron-bashing. But I figured that with Harry's anxious personality and his bookish-ness, they wouldn't really connect the same way they did in the canon. Please Review :)


	5. Chapter 5

Since Rosie had slept poorly during the night, she ended up taking a nap until it was time for Astronomy.  Both Rosie and Harry already knew many of the constellations and stars in the sky.  As children, they liked to look at the Black Family Tapestry, and then try and find Sirius’s relatives up in the night sky.  For both Harry and Rosie, Sirius was their favourite star (of course).  

 

Since the Ravenclaws had already had a class with the Slytherins earlier, they were all fairly relaxed and able to enjoy themselves.  Rosie even ended up speaking to a few of the Slytherins (Mathilda Travers, Casper Shettigar and  Luthais Selwyn) who wanted to hear about the Black Tapestry, and were amused by Rosie’s account of the mounted house-elf heads (“It began with Elladora Black, and it became a tradition to cut the heads off the house-elves and mount them on plaques.”)(“Those must attract a lot of glomping-borbofors” Luna murmured thoughtfully.)  

 

The only thing that marred the night was the cold and haughty Astrid Rowle, and her friend/follower Amphillis Burke.  They made an interesting pair to look at - Astrid, with her haughty pretty features and her ash blonde hair, next to Amphillis with her plain face and straw-coloured locks.  It was as though Astrid had chosen the exact person to befriend to make her look prettier in comparison.  Amphillis looked rather like she could have been Astrid’s ugly relation.

 

  “It’s too bad the Black Heir has completely defiled the once-noble name of Black,” Astrid had commented, as she was listening in on Rosie’s conversation with the other Slytherins.  Amphillis, tittered in amusement.  If Astrid hadn’t sounded like such a petty little harpy, and if Astrid hadn’t been insulting her beloved Sirius, Rosie probably would have laughed at how much the young pureblood sounded like Walburga Black.

 

Instead, Rosie snapped:  “The Blacks already defiled their own names,” unable to contain her  irritation.  “That’s why they're either insane, in Azkaban or dead.”  The Slytherins, and many of the Ravenclaws looked uncomfortable with the conversation.  The mousy-haired Mathilda had her lips pursed.  Luthais looked like he was rather preoccupied with the night sky.  As for Astrid, she decided not to deign Rosie’s comment with a reply, and only sniffed, before wandering off, trailed by her human hound-dog Amphillis.

 

Once Astrid had gone, it had been easier to speak to Mathilda and Luthais, but Casper had been uncomfortable and quiet for the rest of the night.  Speaking to them had given her some insight into the Slytherin mindset.  None of the three other students were particularly open, the way the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs were.  One almost learned more about the Slytherins from what they didn’t say as opposed to what they did.  She could see that most of the Slytherins seemed to respect the Black and even the Potter names, but many of them (aside from Astrid) were reluctant to speak of their own families - at least to outsiders.  Though Luthais and Mathilda were both perfectly polite when answering Rosie’s questions about their families, neither of them could fully hide the coldness that flashed in their eyes.  They might have been willing to uphold the family name, but it was evident that neither of them felt a closeness to their relations.

 

When Rosie had asked the Slytherins about Professor Snape, their expressions had the same guarded quality.  There was a measure of respect in their voices, but there was no affection.  Somehow, Rosie couldn’t imagine Snape being a particularly warm Head of House.  In fact, the descriptor of warmth combined with the image of Professor Snape almost made her giggle until she recalled how terribly he treated Harry.

 

She found that she had enjoyed getting to know the Slytherins, even if they weren’t willing to be completely open with her.  For a brief moment, she wondered what it would have been like to be in Slytherin, and then decided that Sirius would have probably disowned her.  Well, maybe he wouldn’t disown her, but he would probably keep her at a safe distance by making her a target of all his pranks.  Being a Slytherin in Sirius’s household would have been like drawing a dartboard on her face.

 

Thursday began with Potions (with the Hufflepuffs), and Primrose followed her housemates apprehensively.  She had slept relatively well through the night - Harry only had minor nightmares, and her homesickness was fading fractionally, though she still missed Sirius.  However, the trek down to the dungeons did nothing to settle her nerves.  What if Professor Snape hated her?  What if she ended up being humiliated in front of the class, the way he humiliated Harry?  Thinking about the Professor’s treatment towards her brother made her angry on Harry’s behalf, and the anger chased away much of her nervousness.  She reminded herself that she had some experience working with potions, and she had already read the textbook before starting class.  Surely she could handle this.  There was no way she’d let the cruel-hearted Potions master get the best of her.

 

The dungeons of Hogwarts were colder than the rest of Hogwarts.  The stonework seemed to be accented with snakes, and in the corner of her eyes, it sometimes seemed as though they moved.  Professor Snape’s classroom was a large and oval-shaped room.  To one side was a squarish basin - probably for the students to wash their hands.  The walls were lined with jars of pickled animals and other mysterious parts.  Many of the students look frightened, but Rosie thought that the decor was no worse than some of the things in Grimmauld Place. The students all filed in silently, and all that could be heard was the shuffle of steps and fabric.

 

Professor Snape started the class with roll call.  Harry had told her that the Professor had singled him out on the first day of class, but when he came to ‘Primrose Potter,’ there wasn’t even a pause, and Rosie breathed a sigh of relief.

 

The Professor’s voice had a rather deep and silky quality, and he spoke in barely more than a whisper.  He gave them his introductory speech about potions that had many of the students wide-eyed.  She knew that many of the Ravenclaws had been excited about learning Potions, but unlike Transfiguration, the excitement was also tinged with fear because of Professor Snape’s reputation.  His speech was concluded by saying: “Ravenclaws, I hope you live up to your house’s reputation.  And as for the rest of you - try not to be complete lackwits.  It wouldn’t do for you to come out of the classroom with body pieces - missing.”  There was a moment of silence so deep that it seemed like one would be able to hear a pin drop.

 

  “Wynch!” Professor Snape suddenly snapped, and the plump, auburn haired Hufflepuff girl practically leapt in her seat.  She was wide-eyed with fear at being singled out.  “What potion requires the use of Passiflora?”

 

   “I-I don’t know, sir” Eleanor Wynch quailed.  Snape sneered, and the girl, who was already pale, looked as though she would be sick.

 

   “Kajiwara!” 

 

   “I believe it is used in the The Calming Draught, sir,” Sakiko said timidly, though Rosie could tell that the timidity was not because she feared she was wrong - it was more that she was intimidated by the glowering potions master.

 

   “Perriss, What happens if you add porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?” the Professor asked, softly, dangerously.

 

  “You’ll melt your cauldron, sir,” said Alec Perriss.  He was one of her housemates, though she hadn’t yet had a chance to know him.  Alec had spoken with a touch more confidence than Eleanor and Sakiko, but his voice was still deferential and quiet.  Professor Snape asked several more questions, always calling on different students.  Most of the students struggled to answer - especially the Hufflepuffs. The Ravenclaws fared much better.  She felt a touch of pride for her House.

 

Professor Snape was still drilling the class with questions.  “And what happens if you use a bicorn horn that has been cut, rather than shed from the animal?  Anyone?  Potter?”

 

Rosie was glad that unlike many of the other students, she didn’t flinch when he called on her.  Considering the way he treated Harry, there was no way that she wanted to show any weakness in front of him.

 

  “It will render most potions toxic, sir,” she said, her voice steady.  Snape’s expression was inscrutable as he looked at her, his eyes like tunnels of blackness.  She kept her chin up and didn’t break the gaze.  When Professor Snape finally looked away, Rosie sighed softly in relief.  She felt as though she had just gone through an exam.  

 

 “Everyone, find a partner.  Choose wisely, for this is the person you’re going to have to suffer the company of for the rest of the term.  Next class, we will be brewing a simple potion to cure boils.  We shall spend the rest of the class learning the proper way to handle and store potion ingredients.  Textbooks open to page 15!”

 

Luna ended up partnering up with Haasa Bhatt, one of the Hufflepuffs so Rosie partnered with Romulus.  Rosie already knew most of the basics of handling and storing potion ingredients, and it seemed as though Romulus did as well.  The rest of the class, while still tense, was much better than she had expected.

 

The following class was Defense Against the Dark Arts which was also with the Hufflepuffs.  The students all walked together from the dungeon to classroom 3C.  This was all the way on the third floor, so it was a bit of a trek for all the students.  The entered into the room together, most of them quietly commiserating about how scary Professor Snape was.  Rosie found herself wondering why Professor Snape would treat her so differently than he treated her brother, but she could find no answer.

 

The Defense classroom was, like many of the other classrooms, very large.  An iron chandelier hung from the high ceiling, and there was a great dragon skeleton as well, that most of the students gawked at.  At first glance, it seemed as though the room was filled with portraits, but when Rosie got a better look, she realized that they were all pictures of the Professor, grinning, posing and waving. 

 

Rosie had not been looking forward to this particular class.  While she had not been nervous about it, the way she had been with Potions, Harry’s assessment of it had not been positive.  He had had his first DADA class yesterday afternoon, and he had told her it was awful when she happened to bump into him in the hallway (“And I swear, that man keeps stalking me.  He keeps giving me advice on fame.  I tried telling him I didn’t want to be famous, but he said false modesty would do me no good” Harry had added with a scowl.)  From Harry’s assessment, it sounded like the man was completely lacking in sense.

 

Professor Lockhart was standing at the front of the class in pose that looked well-practiced. He ‘just so happened’ to have been standing in a shaft of sunlight from one of the windows, and the light gleamed off his wavy locks of hair, bringing out the gold tones in his hair.  Rosie found herself wondering if he used glamour on those locks.  If not, they were likely the product of many different magical potions and hair treatments.

 

  “Ah, first years!” Gilderoy Lockhart said once all the students had seated. “What an honour it is for all of you here today.  All of you have an immense advantage.  Can you guess why?”  He paused and looked at the students.  They glanced at one another with uncertainty.

 

    “It’s because your introduction to Defense Against the Dark Arts is going to be with Me!” He struck a dashing pose, puffing up his chest.  His deep magenta robes billowed behind him, and he beamed, flashing brilliant white teeth.   “I shall be shaping your supple and eager young minds, teaching you all you need to know.  Rest assured, once I’m done with you, you will have an edge over all your upperclassmen, knowing that I, Gilderoy Lockhart, planted the seeds of your understanding.  But first, let me tell you a bit about myself.  I can see that you’re all on the edge of your seats, wanting to know.  Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League, and five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most Charming-Smile Award.”  He beamed once again.  Rosie looked at him incredulously, and then looked around at her other classmates, wondering if they were just as aware of his ridiculousness.  She was disturbed to see several of the female Hufflepuffs staring at him with awe.  Even Edine and Sakiko had expressions of admiration on their faces.  Luna’s expression was the same, dreamy expression as always.  Romulus look vaguely pained.

 

   “Now, I started my second years off with a little quiz, but since you’re all first years, there’s no reason to scare you like that,” Professor Lockhart gave them a conspiratorial smile.  “Quizzes will come later, when you’re all settled in.  Never let it be said that Gilderoy Lockhart tyrannizes his students!”  Lockhart winked at them, as though they were all in on some sort of inside joke.  Some of the Hufflepuff girls giggled. 

 

  “No, indeed, I shall spend this class telling you all about my exploits so that you know what to expect in the days to come.  Believe me, this is a great honour!  Most people only know my stories through my books, but you’ll be hearing it straight from my fearless self!  Now, if you need to, take the time to sit next to your friends.  You may want to hold hands if you get scared.  I have faced many a great number of dangers, and I don’t want to give any of you nightmares.”  Disturbingly, several of the Hufflepuff girls actually took his advice.  Edine and Sakiko looked at each other, and then back at Lockhart with wide-eyed admiration.  Many of the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw boys looked excited.

 

Professor Lockhart proceeded to regale the class with all his exploits.  Many of the students seemed to hang on his every word.  While it was true that Lockhart seemed to be a good storyteller, Rosie knew for a fact that his tales were riddled with inaccuracies.  The books that Sirius had inherited from his family contained a lot of information about the Dark Arts and Dark Creatures.  She was quite certain that many creatures did not act the way that Professor Lockhart described (“-and after its encounter with me, the Vampire could eat nothing but Lettuce. Yes, that’s right, Lettuce!  Of course, most creatures, and even people at that, would say that their life has changed after meeting me.”)

 

Rosie’s final class of the day was Herbology again.  She had been looking forward to the class, hoping to get to know some of the Slytherins better, but she noticed through her empathic link that Harry’s mood seemed to darken considerably.  She felt a wave of concern for him, wondering what was happening.  However, when she began to detect feelings of shame mixed with fear, she realized that he was in Potions.  A hot wave of anger ran through her, and she almost wished she could go up to Professor Snape and confront him about what he was doing to her brother.  Better yet, she wanted to throw all the curses she had read about from the Black family library at him.  She hadn’t tried the vast majority of them, but Snape would make perfect target practice.  Harry’s feelings were so distressing that she could barely focus in her class.  At best, she had managed to say ‘hi’ and exchange a few words with the Slytherins, but she doubted that she could concentrate on extended conversation.  The class seemed to pass by in a complete blur.

 

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

 

Severus Snape was having a bad day.  He had to teach not one, but two Potters that day, and that was at least one Potter too many.  He felt a headache coming on.  Teaching first years was never his favourite job.  For that matter, he didn’t care for teaching second, third, or fourth years either.  It was vaguely painful to think about how much time he spent, doing something he hated.

 

His first first-year class had been with the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, which was never quite as painful as the Slytherin and Gryffindor first-year classes.  At least Ravenclaws could be counted on to listen to instructions, and Hufflepuffs, while not necessarily as sharp, where hard-working and diligent.  Sometimes, he thought his life could at least be tolerable if he didn’t have to teach Gryffindors.  They were the bane of his existence.

 

Severus thought back to his first class.  He hadn’t been sure of what to expect from Primrose Potter.  That she had been sorted into Ravenclaw left him with a small measure of optimism, but he quickly stamped those feelings out.  Getting his hopes up never worked out well.  It was better to be on the safe side and assume that she was as incompetent as her brother.  It would be too much to ask of the Universe, that she at least had a smidgen of Lily’s talent - poor Lily.  Thinking of her fate, locked away at St Mungos made his heart ache and he felt sick to his stomach.  He had visited her once before, long ago, but seeing her wide-eyed, trembling, incoherent manner was more than he could bear.  He wanted to remember the beautiful, intelligent girl - not the raving, screaming creature that pulled at her own hair, and didn’t recognize him.

 

Since that incident, in which Bellatrix, Rodolphus,  [ Rabastan ](http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Rabastan_Lestrange) , and Barty Jr had tortured the Potters to insanity, Severus had desperately been working on a cure for the Potters’ condition.  It was almost ten years now.  He had made several breakthroughs, but he was still nowhere near to finding the cure.  The Potters’ condition was simply too complex.  True, he had created several medicinal potions that were being used at St Mungo's to this day (which helped to supplement his income), but he didn’t care about that.   All he wanted was to be the one who saved Lily - the one who brought her back from her mental torment to the girl he once knew.  Or, it would be more accurate to say woman - it was hard to think of her as being in her thirties now.

 

The Ravenclaw-Hufflepuff class had gone better than he had expected.  Of course, it helped that he (always) tried to expect the worst.  Primrose seemed to be nothing like her brother, for which he was infinitely grateful.  Her bearing was confident - she never flinched from his gaze.  And of course, she answered his question correctly, even though the one he asked her wasn’t in the first year textbook.  Admittedly, Potter answered most of his questions correctly as well, so it wouldn’t do to expect too much of the girl.  Afterall, theoretical knowledge and practical knowledge were different realms of ability.

 

As Primrose paired up (with the werewolf, he noticed darkly), he had observed her working.  Well, he observed all his students with an eagle eye, but it was hard not to watch the girl.  It was like going back and time, and watching Lily (if Lily’s hair had been hit by a colour change charm that made it black).  Even her body language, voice, and inflections were like Lily’s.  When he finally found the cure for Lily (and hopefully, it would not be too far off), he thought that she would be proud of her daughter.  All in all, the first-year class had been tolerable.

 

One would think that a tolerable class would have put Severus in a good mood, but if that is what one thought, then one would be terribly, terribly wrong.  Having met Primrose Potter meant that when Harry’s Gryffindor-Slytherin group entered his classroom that afternoon, the comparison between Primrose and Harry was fresh in Severus’s mind.  Harry compared to his peers was bad enough.  Harry compared to his sister?  It just made his failings stand out more clearly than ever. 

 

Severus went through roll call with his second years (“Remarkable to see that you survived the summer in one piece, Potter” he said contemptuously, causing the other students to snicker).  He then collected all the students’ summer homework.  He followed that with an overview of what they would be learning in their second year.  Of course, he gave warning that this curriculum would be even more dangerous that last year’s.  He looked at Harry pointedly as he said this, but Harry kept his gaze down on his parchment, scribbling away with his quill in his messy chicken-scratch handwriting.

 

  “Potter!” Severus called out. “Name the uses for Gurdyroot!”

 

  “Many believe that a Gurdyroot concoction can ward off Dark creatures, though it is limited in its effect.  It is also used in the Love Potion Antidote,” Harry replied softly, not meeting his eyes.  Harry seemed to keep his gaze fixed on Severus’s robe, not daring to look up further.  Potter’s answer was correct of course.  Severus rarely managed to trip the boy up when asking him about any of the theory.  While he was minorly relieved that the boy at least had a brain, it disgusted him that the boy was so timid. How had he even managed to be sorted into Gryffindor anyway?  Did the hat do pity-Sortings?  That was the only explanation that Severus could come up with.  It was a shame he couldn’t take away points for cowardice.  It was tempting though.  As Severus contemplated the boy, boring holes through him with his eyes, Harry’s ears pinkened, and Severus sneered in contempt.

 

  “We’ll be starting the class with a Sleeping Draught,” he said in his silky voice, after a moment.  “Can anybody tell me the difference between the Sleeping Draught and the Draught of Living Death?”  Severus’s eyes skirted across the classroom.  He ignored Hermione, whose hand was straining towards the ceiling.  “Mr. Malfoy?”

 

  “The Sleeping Draught causes the drinker to fall into a deep but temporary sleep.  The Draught of Living Death, while also a type of sleeping draught, is much more powerful, sending the drinker into a death-like slumber,” said Draco Malfoy, looking particularly smug.

 

  “Very good.  Ten points to Slytherin,” Severus said.

 

Harry was paired with Neville (as he had been last year), but he wished that he had been paired with Hermione instead.  Unfortunately, Snape did not permit the students to change their partners.  As much as Harry liked Neville, he had to admit that Neville wasn’t much good at potions at all.  While Harry had an excellent theoretical grasp on potions, and knew that on his own, he’d be able to brew most of the potions in the curriculum, being around Snape was always a humiliating experience.  In Potions class, he couldn’t keep his hands from trembling in stress.  Even chopping, crushing and preparing ingredients was difficult.

 

The students quietly made their way to the cupboard, collecting the necessary ingredients before returning to their stations.  Professor Snape swept up and down the aisles, his cloak fluttering behind him.  Every time the Professor drew near, Harry couldn’t help but feel sick with anxiety and shame.  Snapes eyes were always so condemning, that Harry wanted to sink into the floor.

 

Fortunately, so far, Harry seemed to be doing alright.  He noticed that his breathing was shallow and forced himself to take a deep breath.  Neville was crushing the lavender and standard ingredient in the mortar, while Harry was juicing the flobberworm to collect its mucus.  He tried to focus on his task, and tune out the environment around him.  He was so intent on squeezing the mucus from the flobberworms that when a hard item hit him in the back, he jumped, knocking the squeezed flobberworms and mucus on the floor.

 

  “Potter!” Snape called out furiously, seeing the sticky mess on the floor.  “Are you really that much of an imbecile that you would ruin your potions before they’ve even been brewed?  Or could it be that you’ve already given up before you started and decided to sabotage yourself?”  Snape’s insinuations made Harry pale.  “Five points from Gryffindor!”  

 

Around Harry, the students were either snickering, or glowering at him.  Neville looked at the students behind Harry, with an angry glare.  He had seen something out of the corner of his eye fly towards Harry and hit him in the back, but he didn’t know who did it.  It enraged Neville but he knew that if he stood up for Harry, Snape would just take off more points, and the Gryffindors would antagonize Harry further.  Behind Harry, most of the Slytherins were sniggering.  Malfoy was looking smug.  But Ronald Weasley, Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan, the three Gryffindors who liked to bully Harry were also looking pleased as well.  The rest of the Gryffindors looked angry, as though they believed that Harry was personally determined to lose points for their house.

 

Harry, meanwhile, was crouched over the mess on the floor, trying to clean it up, but his hands were shaking badly.  His whole body burned hot with humiliation and helplessness.  For a brief moment, he hated Snape more than he hated even Bellatrix,  Rodolphus ,  Rabastan , and Barty Jr.

  
-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

 

After Herbology, Primrose followed her housemates back to Ravenclaw tower.  Most of them were dirty from handling the plants, and wanted to take showers.  Rosie could tell that Harry was still in Potions because the feelings of shame had not subsided.  In fact, as she was nearing the entrance to the Ravenclaw Nest, emotions of surprise, horror and humiliation seemed to explode through her head, neck and chest, and she barely heard a word that Luna was saying to her.  Whatever it was that Harry was experiencing was awful!  It made her want to crawl into a hole and die.

Something must have showed in her expression (which she usually tried to keep impassive) because she heard Luna say: “There must be an infestation of blue-bottomed-dorples.  They tend 

to steal the colour away from your cheeks if you’re not careful.”

The words were enough of a distraction that Rosie was able to pull herself away from Harry’s feelings, and blank out of her mind, though it was an effort.  She smiled weakly at Luna.

 “Yeah, there must be,” she murmured.  Luna smiled knowingly and took Rosie’s hand.

 “Come on,” Luna said, pulling Rosie up the steps of the Ravenclaw Tower. “I’ll show you the Raven-hat that I’m making.  I still need more feathers, and not all of them are black, but it caws when I put it on.”

Edine and Sakiko were already in the showers when Rosie and Luna arrived at the dorms.  They both took quick showers, and afterwards, Luna took the hat out of her trunks to show Rosie.

It was a rather impressive hat - the eagle head that topped it was as big as Luna’s head, and made with a mix of white, bronze, and oddly, some blue and orange feathers thrown in.  Edine and Sakiko, who were sitting on Edine’s bed and chatting, looked over at Luna oddly, as she turned the hat this way and that, so that Rosie could see every angle.

  “When did you have time to do this?” Rosie asked, impressed. “We’ve only been here a couple days.  Did you know you would get sorted into Ravenclaw?”

  “Oh, I have a hat for each of the houses.  I’ve finished my Badger-hat, and I’m still working on my Snake-hat and Lion-hat.”  Luna set the Eagle-hat on her head, and it began to screech extremely loudly.  Edine and Sakiko both jumped, and from the common rooms below, Rosie heard someone say “What’s going on up there?”  Luna took the hat off.

  “Are you really going to wear that in public?” Edine said with consternation.  Sakiko shared an expression of dismay, and the two friends shared a glance.

  “Maybe for Quidditch games,” Luna said serenely, and then put the hat back in her trunk.

As Rosie wondered when Harry would be finished his class, she realized that she had forgotten to write a letter for Remus.  She wasn’t even sure what she would say to him.  Perhaps she could ask Romulus about it.  She grabbed some parchment and her quill and ink and headed down to the common room.  Luna had climbed on her bed with  _ The Quibbler _ , trying to solve a puzzle and seemed content to entertain herself.

Romulus was indeed in the common room, sitting in a chair by the window alone.  His dark blond hair was draped across his eyes like a shield, making him look as inaccessible as ever.  He was reading a book, and seemed oblivious to the people around him.  Rosie walked up to him, hoping she wouldn’t startle him, but as she drew near, she noticed that his eyes were unmoving on the page, and his body carried a sort of coiled tension, as though he were ready to leap up at any moment..  Evidently, nothing escaped his notice.

 “Hello, Rom,” she said in greeting.  He looked up at her, his cold blue eyes unreadable.

  “I hope you don’t mind that I call you that,” she said apologetically.  “Romulus is admittedly a bit of a mouthful.”  Romulus shrugged indifferently.  

  “I was thinking of writing a letter to Remus. I’m not really sure what to say.  Would it be alright if I mentioned that I know you?”  Romulus seemed to consider her words thoughtfully.

  “He would probably be surprised.  But-” Romulus paused, his gaze suddenly distant.  “I think it would be good for Remus, to have someone to talk to other than me.”

 “Oh, thanks!” Rosie said, brightening.  She was suddenly very excited about reaching out to Remus.  She waved to Romulus as she walked off to one of the tables, and Romulus nodded in response before going back to his book.

  Sitting at one of the empty desks in the common room, Rosie brushed the feathery tip of the quill against her lips as she considered what she would say.  She began to write.

_ Dear Remus, _

_ I don’t know if you remember me, but my name is Primrose Lily Potter.  You were friends with my dad and with Sirius.   _

_ I just started my first year at Hogwarts, and I met your son Romulus.  I like him.  He told me a bit about you, and how you like to read.  I like to read too, and so does Harry. _

_ I don’t really remember you, but Harry says you were really nice.  I’ve always wondered about you.  I hope you’ll decide to reply.  It would make me really happy to hear from you. _

_ Sincerely  _

_ Rosie _

Satisfied with her efforts, Rosie sprinkled the letter with a layer of fine sand to absorb the ink so that it would not blot when she folded the parchment.  She dusted off the powder, and folded up her letter.  From her empathic link, she could sense that Harry was probably done class.  The feeling of shame had subsided to his normal anxiety.  

As she was about to exit the common room, she saw that there was a new notice on the noticeboard.  It seemed that they would have their first Flying Lessons on Friday with the Hufflepuffs.  Rosie was proficient on the broom.  She didn’t love flying the way that Sirius and Harry did, but when one lived with those two, one ended up spending a fair amount of time on a broom.  She put the thought from her mind - Flying Lessons were probably more important for muggles who had never flown before.  Harry had told her that students who proved their proficiency didn’t have to take the class.  

She climbed down the spiraling stairs and along the corridors and staircases that led her to the Great Hall.  The closer she got, the more strongly she felt Harry’s anxiety, but Rosie was feeling excited.  She couldn’t wait to talk to Sirius!  Even when one of the staircases shifted, and forced her to take a big detour, she remained positive.

Harry was waiting for her by the entrance to the Great Hall.  He was standing with his arms crossed, looking withdrawn and troubled, but when he saw her, he relaxed and smiled.

  “Where do you want to go?” Rosie asked him.

  “Let’s go walk outside along the lake,” Harry replied, and they started walking.

There weren’t too many students around, and Rosie wanted to know what had happened to him earlier, so she leaned closed to him and said softly, in Parseltongue: “ _ What happened earlier? _ ” __ She knew that to the other students, it would probably just sound like very quiet whispering.  In her experience, most people couldn’t even hear parseltongue at all.

  “ _ Snape, _ ” Harry replied darkly.  “ _ I’ll tell you when we’re outside _ .”  

They headed towards the exit that led to one of the courtyards, but before they were outside, they heard a pair of voices call out behind them.

 “Harry!”   

Harry and Rosie turned around.  Rosie noted that Harry’s anxiety didn’t increase, so whoever they were, they probably weren’t a threat.  Coming their way was a tall pair of red headed twins in Gryffindor colours.  They looked remarkably like the boy Ron, who had been bullying Harry at the table yesterday, and Rosie instinctively felt guarded.

 “Well, well” said one

 “Looks like we have a matched set!” said the other.

 “Who’s this then, Harry?” they asked together.

 “Hey, Fred.  Hey George.  This is my sister, Rosie.”  The pair of them looked at Rosie speculatively, and she tilted her chin up, meeting their gaze boldly.

 “Oh my,”

 “A little Eaglet, just a hatchling too”

 “And is that a challenge I spy in her eyes?”  The twins looked at each other, and there was a sparkle of mischief in their eyes.

 “Well, by all means, challenge her,” said Harry, “But she’s read more of the Black library than I have, and she knows some pretty mean hexes.”  Rosie’s lip quirked up in amusement.  Yes, she did know a lot of hexes, but that didn’t mean she had ever cast them before.

 “Harry,” Rosie said, swatting his arm. “Don’t scare them!”  The twins laughed.

 “I like this one,” said Fred.

 “Obviously, no stranger to mischief,” said George.

  “Which is to say-”

  “We look forwarding to seeing what you can do.”  The twins grinned.

Harry faked a sigh.  “You’ve met the latest addition to the Marauders and you’re tired of me already, it seems.” 

  “Never, Harry!”

  “You’re tried and true!”

  “By the way, thanks for the balloon bugs!”

   “You should have seen Percy’s face when he couldn’t get through the doors!”  The twins chortled with amusement.

Rosie looked at Harry with mild surprise.  “You gave them the balloon bugs?” She asked.  

The balloon bug was one of Sirius’s little “projects:”  a little bug like device could be thrown at anyone, and it would cling onto their clothes.  Once attached, it expanded into multiple balloons, encircling the person until their upper body was surrounded, arms entrapped.  Conveniently, it left a person’s head free so they could see, and kept their legs free so they could move.  The end result was something that looked akin to a lumpy human lollipop.

  “Well, Sirius did imply that he wanted us to use his projects to school.  So I did,” Harry informed her with a sheepish shrug.

  “Do be sure to show us any new ‘toys’ you may have Harry,” said George

  “And we’ll try and keep ickle Ronniekins off your back,” added Fred.  There was a gleam of trouble in the twins eyes as they grinned.

  “See you around, Harry, Rosie!”  The twins waved, and wandered off.  Rosie looked at Harry.  The banter seemed to have relaxed him, and he gave her a half smile.

 “That was Fred and George Weasley - Ron’s older brothers.  They’ve got a really big family.  I think those two have bought every product that Sirius has put out under the Marauder’s line from Zonko’s.  And they’re always trying to wheedle me out of giving them all of Sirius’s prototypes.”

 “Every product?  Wow - Padfoot has fans.  I think I remember seeing a Ginerva Weasley one in my classes,” Rosie replied.

  “Ginny?  She’s pretty nice.  Well, the lot of them are pretty nice, except for Ron.”  Harry’s face darkened slightly. 

They continued on their way, out to the courtyard and past the Garden Gate.  Finding a comfortable grassy spot by the lake, they sat down.

  “ _ So what happened in Potions today? _ ” Rosie asked Harry in Parseltongue.  A part of her didn’t want to bring it up and spoil the mood, but she knew that it often helped for Harry to talk through his feelings.

  “ _ The same thing that always happens, _ ” Harry replied unhappily.  “ _ Either Snape singles me out in front of the whole class, or someone does something to mess me up _ .”

  “ _ You mean, people sabotage you _ ?” Rosie hissed, incensed. 

  “ _ I don’t know if I’d call it sabotage.  But I know it’s always directed at me.  I don’t know who it is.  Either Seamus and his ilk, or Malfoy and his _ .”

  “ _ Malfoy _ ?”  Rosie asked.  She recognized the name as a pureblood one.  One of Sirius’s cousins (that he rarely ever spoke to) had married a Malfoy.

 “ _ He’s a Slytherin and a prat.  But at least, half the time he’s fighting with Ron, so that gets him off my back.  Malfoy might not like me, but he and Ron loathe each other.  At least with Malfoy, it isn’t personal though.  I think he just dislikes all Gryffindors on principle, and he’s kind of a pure-blooded snob _ .”

  “ _ Why didn’t you ever tell me any of this?  In any of your letters, or even over the summer? _ ”  Rosie asked.

  “ _ I didn’t want to upset you.  Plus, I knew you’d be coming to Hogwarts soon, and I didn’t want you to start out with a negative impression.  It’s not bad for everyone.  If Seamus and his friends, and Snape didn’t exist, I’d probably really like it here _ ,” Harry said, with a trace of wistfulness.  “ _ At least I have Quidditch. _ ”  

Rosie was silent for a moment as she digested Harry’s words.  “ _ I still wish you had told me _ ,” she said finally.  “ _ You shouldn’t have had to carry that burden on your own _ .”

  “ _ I had Neville and Hermione _ ,” Harry said softly. “ _ They’re good friends _ .”

  “ _ Yeah. _ ”

They sat silently, and stared out at the lake, which rippled slightly in the wind.  Occasionally, the tentacles of the giant squid could be seen.

  “ _ Did you bring the mirror _ ?” Rosie asked, when she sensed that Harry’s mood was calm enough.  Harry nodded, and pulled the square two-way mirror out of his schoolbag.  “Sirius,” he said, gazing into it.  After about five minutes of waiting, Sirius’s face appeared.

  “Padfoot!” Rosie squealed, in childish delight, a wide grin on her face.

  “Hi, Padfoot,” said Harry, at the same time, with a crooked grin.

  “Hey pups!” Sirius looked very pleased to see them.

  “I miss you sooo much, Padfoot!” Rosie said.

  “Aww, I miss you too, pups!  Having only Kreacher for company just isn’t the same.”

  “Somehow, I doubt that you  _ only _ have Kreacher for company,” Harry said, rolling his eyes.

  “What are you implying?” Sirius replied, with mock indignation. 

  “You probably started bringing lovers over the second we were gone,” said Harry.  Sirius’s ears turned red.

  “What would you know about lovers anyway?  You pups are too young to think about things like that.”

  “Well, we know that you’re good-looking, and willing to take advantage of it,” Rosie chirped.

  “And that you have no trouble attracting pretty girls and pretty boys,” Harry added.

  “I’ll take that as a compliment,” said Sirius, his lips quirking.  

  “So which house did you get sorted into, pup?” Sirius asked Rosie.

  “Ravenclaw,” she replied with a smile.

  “Not Gryffindor?” Sirius asked, surprise.  He paused as he considered the situation.  “Well, being a Eagle isn’t so bad, I suppose.” (Sirius’s expression didn’t quite match his words.  Rosie could tell he was a touch disappointed, but she knew he’d get over it)  “You are a clever little pup after all.  Besides, considering the trouble that the Marauders and I got into - maybe you’d be safer with the stiff old birds rather than the lions.”

  “You make it sound like I’m helpless, Padfoot!  Considering that I’ve lived with you for ten years, I’m pretty sure I take on the Gryffindors anyday!”

Sirius grinned.  “That’s my girl!  You know, the Marauders and I snuck into the Ravenclaw tower once before.  I like the Gryffindor tower better.” 

  “Mm.” Rosie simply smiled placidly.  Sometimes Sirius could act like he was five years old.

  “Are you getting along with the other Eagles?” Sirius asked.

  “Well, I met this girl Luna who’s really nice.  And there’s also Romulus.”

  “A boy?  I didn’t think I had to start worrying about that so soon!” Sirius groaned.

Rosie gave him a withering look.  “I’ll have you know that Romulus Lupin is a perfect gentleman”  (though in her head, she thought he was rather too taciturn to truly be called a gentleman).

  “Lupin?  Merlin’s beard!  He has a son?”

  “Adopted.”

Sirius looked rather thoughtful.  “I wonder what old Moony is up to these days.”  His question was rhetorical and Sirius looked slightly wistful and sad.

Rosie changed the topic.  They spoke for a while about how school was going.  Rosie told him about some of her other classmates and classes.  Harry spoke a bit about his classes, but Rosie noticed that he omitted mentioning Potions.

  “Do you have a favourite class yet?” Sirius asked Rosie.

  “I haven’t even gone to all my classes yet!” Rosie exclaimed.  “But I like transfigurations and astronomy so far.”

  “Your dad was really talented in Transfigurations,” Sirius said.

  “I know,” Rosie replied.

  “So - have you had a class with Snivellus yet?”  Sirius asked.  Rosie’s expression darkened.

  “I’m guessing by your expression that you have.  That bad eh, pup?”  

  “Well, it’s not that bad for me,” she confessed.  She was more angry on behalf of Harry, but she did not know how much Harry had revealed to Sirius.

 “Snape is Snape,” Harry said, a touch of anger in his voice.

 “That says it all, doesn’t it?” Sirius replied.  “Well, pups, be brave, be strong.  I’ll send you some of my experimental projects by owl so you can prank him.”  Sirius grinned wickedly.  Harry and Rosie exchanged a look.  The idea of pranking Snape sent shivers down their spine.

  “Erm - thanks?” Harry replied.

  “Anyhow, pups, I’ve got to run.  I still have to take a shower and erm - work on my projects.” 

Rosie and Harry laughed, not at all fooled.  “Enjoy your date, Sirius,” they chimed together.

  “I love you, Padfoot!” Rosie threw in.  Sirius smiled warmly.

  “Love you too, Pups.”

Sirius’s image vanished in the mirror, and Harry put it back in his schoolbag.  They stared out at the lake for another silent moment.

  “Have you been to the library yet?” Harry asked.

 “Not yet.  I’ve walked past it, but I haven’t had a chance yet.”

 “Let’s go then,” Harry said with a smile.  Rosie smiled back.  Speaking to Sirius had left both of them feeling better.  As they walked back towards the castle, Rosie suddenly remembered her letter for Remus.

 “Oh, Harry!”  Harry looked at her questioningly.

 “I spoke to Romulus, and he said that it would be fine if we contacted Remus.  I wrote this letter for him.  Could you get Hedwig to send it?”  Rosie took the letter out of her bookbag and handed it to Harry. 

 “I’ll probably write him a short note as well.  I can send it off this evening.”

Hogwarts library was located off a corridor on the first floor, and the sight of all the books brought a flutter of excitement to Rosie’s heart.  Harry, who was watching her face, grinned at her reaction.

  “Awesome, isn’t it?” he said.  “Hermione is probably here now, if she isn’t in the common room.”  The wandered into the library, and Harry searched the tables while Rosie glanced up at the bookshelves.  She didn’t even know where to begin.  She recognized a number of students at the table as being Ravenclaws, who had books open in front of them, and parchment for taking notes.  Harry spotted Hermione at one of the far tables, by a window.

  “Hey ‘Mione,” he said softly with a smile.  “Trying to get ahead in classes?”

  “Hi Harry, Hi Rosie.  I’ve already read all my textbooks. You know that, Harry.  And I know you’ve already read all of yours as well.”  Harry grinned.

  “What are you reading?” He asked her.

  “Well, I was speaking to Percy about the electives we have to take next year, and I thought I’d start doing some research to see what might interest me the most.  I wish I could take all of them.”  Hermione’s expression was wistful.

 “I can relate,” Harry said with a grin.  They started speaking quietly about classes, and Rosie excused herself so that she could look through the selection of books.  It seemed that there were books on every facet of magic (and even books about muggles).  Here was a section on Charms, and there, one that focused on Transfigurations.  There was a whole wall of books dedicated to magical creatures, and dragons had their own immense section.  There was even a Restricted Section.  She poked her head curiously inside and recognized some of the titles.  With a touch of amusement, she realized that almost of of the Black family library would belong in the restricted section.

In the end, she decided to check out a book on Animagus.  She had already read a large portion of the book she had bought from Flourish and Blotts, and it had only increased her fascination with the topic.


	6. Chapter 6

Friday rolled around, and with it, the flying lessons.  As Harry had said, those who passed the test to show proficiency were exempt from the class.  Rosie was rather relieved to not have to take flying lessons.  Surprisingly, Luna had to take the class.

 

  “We always had other ways of getting around,” Luna explained, dreamily, without explaining what those ‘other’ ways were.  Rosie assumed it was by Floo or Apparition, but with Luna, one could never tell.

 

On Monday, she had her first History of Magic class, and it was just as boring as everyone had described.  Luna spent most of the class doodling the creatures that she said were floating around Professor Binns’ head, and Rosie used the time to work on homework from her other classes.

 

Later in the day, she had her first Charms class as well, with their head of house Professor Flitwick.  Like all the other classes, it began with roll call, but when Professor Flitwick came to her name, he beamed at her brightly, and Rosie couldn’t resist grinning in return.

 

  “Who can tell me the difference between Charms and Transfiguration?” Professor Flitwick began.  “Anyone?”

 

One of the Ravenclaws, Alec Perriss, raised his hand.  The Professor nodded at him encouragingly.  

 

  “Charms are different from Transfiguration because Charms add or change the property of an object, rather than changing the object itself,” Perriss said, sounding like he had memorized it straight from the textbook.  However, Professor Flitwick was delighted.

 

  “Just so, Just so!  Five points to Ravenclaw!”  he said, and his enthusiasm was infectious.  

 

They did not start on any practical charms in that class.  Rather, Professor Flitwick began explaining the theoretical aspects of charms.  While Rosie was already aware of most of what Professor Flitwick was saying, she was still fascinated.  Professor Flitwick had a way of explaining things that made the concepts very easy to understand.  Moreover, he was bursting with enthusiasm for the topic, and whenever he went on tangents, they were always interesting, stimulating Rosie’s thoughts.  

 

  “There’s a very important reason why particular wand movements are needed to perform charms.  Does anyone know why?” Professor Flitwick asked.

 

  “It channels the magic within us outwardly,” said Sakiko, when Professor Flitwick called on her.

 

  “Very good!  Five points to Ravenclaw!” Flitwick said with his twinkling smile.

 

  “Indeed, both the utterance of the Latin and the wand movements channel our magic, which exists in an undifferentiated free-flowing state within us into an external manifestation.  But it isn’t enough to just wave your wand, and say the right words.  Intent is extremely important as well.  Intent cannot be taught - only experienced and felt.  However, there are a number of mental exercises that enable you to guide your intent.  We will be trying some of these exercises in the following week to prepare you for the practical component of this class.”

 

As Professor Flitwick lectured, he even started giving them hints about how certain aspects of the theory was important when one wanted to create new charms.  Most of the students seemed to enjoy the class.  After it was over, the Ravenclaws were in a state of near rapture, as they discussed all the types of charms that they wanted to experiment with and create.

 

By the end of the second week, much of Rosie’s homesickness had faded.  She and Harry had decided to speak to Sirius on a biweekly basis, usually out by the lake, but sometimes they’d meet in a quiet alcove in the school if the weather was poor.  Rosie always knew when Harry had potions (Mondays and Thursdays in the afternoon) so she often had to emotionally strengthen herself at those times.  It did little to endear Snape to her - if anything, she resented what he was doing to Harry.  Curiously, he was perfectly polite to her.  Once, he even helped her, by showing her how to identify the best specimens of horned slugs for the potion that they were working on.  It was decidedly unnerving.  Rosie never showed her discomfort however.  She always met his eyes, and answered his questions without a waver in her voice.

 

Rosie was also starting to get a better sense of her place at Hogwarts.  She noticed that there was very little inter-house mingling, which she found rather disconcerting.  The other students interested her and it struck her as odd to keep everyone divided.  While she understood the benefits of competition and healthy rivalry, it seemed to go further than that - the division created boundaries that prevented students from understanding one another, and befriending one another.

 

She also noticed that Luna had a tendency to oftens disappear, and Rosie never learned she went.  Once, out of curiosity, she even followed Luna using the invisibility cloak, but somehow, Rosie still ended up losing the trail.  When she asked Luna about it, Luna only ever mentioned the creatures she was searching for - never her actual destination.  Rosie wasn’t particularly troubled by it.  The one place she almost never found Luna however, was in the common rooms.  Most of her time seemed to be divided between Harry and his friends, Luna, and sometimes Romulus.

 

When Saturday of the second week of classes rolled around, Rosie realized that it was going to be the full moon.  She had noticed that Romulus had seemed particularly restless.  She was used to seeing him quietly reading by the window, but on Saturday, he would read for a bit, stand up and pace, look out the window, read a bit more, and then pace again.  He was never really very talkative - in fact, as far as she could tell, she was the only one he spoke to, aside from teachers.  Of course, she didn’t know where he was at all times, so perhaps he had friends in the other houses.  And admittedly, he never actually sought her out to talk - she usually initiated conversations.  She sometimes worried that she might be annoying him, but he never asked her to stop, or to leave him alone, or even walk away (which had had actually done to several students who tried speaking to him).

 

She herself had been trying to read that day, sitting at a chair by one of the other windows, but Romulus’s restlessness distracted her, and she set aside her book on Animagus. She got out of her chair, and walked up to him.  He was currently standing, and staring out the window, his expression distant.

 

 “Hi Rom,” she said.  He turned his head towards her, giving her a brief glance before looking back out the window.

 

  “Are you restless because of the full moon?” She asked, after a moment.  Her voice was soft enough that only he would hear her question.  He turned and glared at her.

 

  “What are you implying?”

 

  “Well, I know Remus is a werewolf,” she said softly.  “So I thought that perhaps you-”

 

  “You’re assuming a lot,” he said, with a touch of coldness in his voice. 

 

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” she said, furrowing her brow.  “I didn’t mean to pry.”  He glared at her for a moment longer, and then shrugged, looking back out the window.  They stood silently for a moment.

 

  “Do you want to go for a walk?” She asked him finally.  He looked at her, his cold eyes inscrutable.  Then, with a heavy sigh, he agreed.  As before, they explored the castle in silence.  She didn’t know why, but she could tell that Romulus preferred it that way.  She didn’t particularly mind - the castle was so interesting, and there was so much more that she had yet to explore.

 

The following week, when Rosie had given up on ever hearing from Remus, she was surprised to get a letter from an owl at breakfast.  She was delighted to find that Remus had actually written her back.

 

_ Dear Rosie,  _ the letter read

 

_ I was very surprised to hear from you and Harry.  Of course I do remember you - I could never forget either you or Harry.  I apologize for taking so long to reply.  I have no excuse. _

 

_ I’m happy to hear that you like Romulus.  I wasn’t sure whether Hogwarts would be the right place for him, but Romulus has a bright mind, and I thought Hogwarts would be the place for him to develop it.  I do indeed like to read, and it warms my heart to know that you and Harry enjoy reading as well. _

 

_ I’m not sure that it is the best idea for you and Harry to keep writing me.  I don’t know how much Sirius told you about me, but there is a reason I left.  I feel that continued correspondence would only disappoint you in the long run. _

 

_ I’m sorry, _

 

_ Remus Lupin _

 

Rosie looked at the letter in bewilderment.  Romulus seemed to have noticed the letter and recognized the handwriting.

 

  “He wrote you back,” Romulus said with a tone of surprise, before going back to his food.

 

 “Something wrong?” Luna asked, in her usual gentle tones.

 

  “I don’t know,” Rosie replied, as she considered the letter.  It didn’t seem right for Remus to determine whether she would be disappointed or not.  She decided (rather stubbornly) that she would indeed reply to his letter.

 

By late September, Rosie had a fairly good grasp on the dynamics of the Ravenclaw house.  She had taken to spending a lot of time in the common rooms, usually sitting in a chair across from Romulus, who silently accepted her presence.  Often during those time, Luna had mysteriously disappeared, but she always returned looking rather pleased with herself  (“I’m doing some research for daddy,” she had said, mysteriously).

 

For the most part, the students spent most of their time with their year mates, however, there was one group that many of the Ravenclaws silently gravitated towards.  This was a fourth year, named Toby Woodbridge, and his two friends, Samir Kapoor and Christopher Hemsley.  The word around Ravenclaw was that Toby was a genius, who was quite brilliant at magic.  He may not have been the most powerful wizard, but his quick mind meant that his grasp of the theory was so extensive that he often was able to make remarkable leaps of understanding.  He had awareness of many of the more obscure branches of magic, and was known for making very interesting theoretical connections that allowed for new ways of performing magic.

 

Toby had pale skin with glossy black hair and rectangular framed glasses.  He was tall and slender, and he had delicate features that were almost cat like.  He could easily have been described as pretty, however, this was offset by the occasional flashes of coldness in his dark eyes.  He hid it well, but Rosie thought she could sense flickers of cruelty in his eyes.  Both of Toby’s friends, Samir and Christopher were handsome, in different ways, but Toby was obviously the leader of the trio.  Ravenclaws had taken to calling them the Triad of Brilliance, which Rosie personally thought was overdoing it.  However, there was no doubt that the three of them were at the top of their class.

 

Edine and Sakiko sighed over them, when they weren’t gushing over Professor Lockhart (“Toby’s eyes are so gorgeous!” “But Professor Lockhart is so brave!  He even befriended pack of werewolves who saw him as their alpha!”.)  These discussions were always punctuated with far too many giggles.  While it was true that Toby was very attractive, Rosie didn’t particularly have a strong interest in boys.  Afterall, she was only eleven.  A part of her wondered if Edine and Sakiko were just trying to emulate their older peers.  These would include the worshipful third years Marietta Edgecombe, Sarah Kempston, and their friend Cho Chang, who followed Toby around like a gaggle of geese.  Admittedly, Cho wasn’t as enamoured as her friends - she admired the Triad, but spent more time mooning over one of the popular Hufflepuffs.

 

For the most part, Rosie kept her distance from Toby.  He often seemed friendly and warm to all his housemates, and graciously helped them with their homework whenever they struggled, but to Rosie, it seemed like an act.  She had seen him stop people in their footsteps with his smile, but she always found it suspicious.  Perhaps it was different when one was the recipient of said smiles - Rosie wasn’t sure.  She did not particularly care to find out..  She could never pinpoint why she thought Toby was just acting - he was perfectly polite to her, with a ready smile that left most girls blushing.  Perhaps it was just the way that no one seemed to dare cross him, or how no one ever intruded on his 'territory.'

 

Toby’s 'territory' was a section of the common room by one of the windows which boasted the best view in the Nest.  Even when Toby wasn’t in the common room, people steered clear of his spot.  It was so unnerving - Rosie herself got chills if she thought about sitting in his seat, and she considered herself fairly brave.  She wasn’t even sure what the consequences would be of entering Toby’s 'territory' uninvited.  She only knew that it would be bad - very bad.  Despite all that, things seemed to be in a state of equilibrium among the Ravenclaws, and she tried to put it out of her mind.

 

By this time, she also noticed that the Slytherins in her classes seemed to be very split.  There was the group that gravitated towards Astrid, which included Amphillis and Casper. They tended to maintain their cold, superior attitude, and it was sickening, the way their lips would curl in disgust if they happened to have to deal with muggleborn witches wizards.  Then there was Luthais and Mathilda, who seemed to have readily accepted Rosie, and the rest of her house.  She knew that the Slytherins were more accepting of her (despite being a half-blood) because she had pureblood manners ( _ Thank you Madam Walburga _ ).  It meant that in some ways, the Slytherins could see her as being “one of them.”  She also had some degree of awareness of pureblood politics.  Living in the Black Ancestral house meant that one learned about such things, whether one wanted to or not. 

 

As the sister to the Boy Who Lived, it should have put her squarely in the position of Light, but as a seeker of knowledge, she found herself considering a multitude of perspectives.  She did not believe that purebloods were superior to muggleborns or half-bloods.  However, she also understood the value of wizarding tradition, and maintaining the values and customs that wizards lived by.  It was hard for her to perceive the situation in terms of black and white.

 

Of course, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was another matter altogether.  Mostly, Rosie just thought he was insane - not only for torturing muggles and causing general destruction, but also for attacking a baby wizard (and being vanquished by said baby wizard).  She knew that many of the Slytherins were the children of Death Eaters, or related to Death Eaters.  But she also knew that one couldn’t judge people by who their parents were.  Didn’t Sirius exemplify that very notion?

 

She was grateful to have been sorted into Ravenclaw rather than Gryffindor.  The House rivalry between Gryffindors and Slytherins meant that they never took the time to truly understand one another.  It was a shame really.  Even Harry, who was generally very sympathetic to others, didn’t care for the Slytherins.  Yet, based on her observations, there were Ravenclaws that she knew of that were just as arrogant and contemptuous as any Slytherin.  It made no sense to paint a whole House by broad strokes.

 

In late September, Rosie finally received another letter from Remus.  Of course, her own letter to him had been rather cajoling - she didn’t want to give him a reason to avoid writing her.  So she had of course asked a lot of questions, and she may or may not have also had added a touch of pleading, to stir up his guilt. ( _ Remus, I’m working on a potions project with Rom.  How do I get him to open up to me and explain his methods?  You’re the only one who can help me, and I want to be a better friend to Rom _ ) _. _  She and Harry had a lot of practice manipulating Padfoot, and she didn’t hesitate to use what she knew against Remus.

She eagerly opened the letter up at the breakfast table, her toast and jam forgotten.

 

_ Dear Rosie, _

 

_ While I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to keep writing, I felt it would be wrong to ignore your letter.  You’re very sweet for being so happy to hear from me, but your kindness is undeserved. _

 

_ You must already be very good friends with Rom if he permits you to call him that.  He has always been a rather quiet boy.  I would recommend having patience with him.  He only speaks when he is ready to. _

 

_ To answer your other questions, yes, Professor McGonagall was my transfiguration teacher when I was in Hogwarts, and no, I don’t have the same passion for potions as Rom does.   _

 

_ Most pranks that we played in Hogwarts were James or Sirius’s idea.  I helped with a lot of the charms work.  Yes, in fact, I did create a few charms of my own.  Not as many as Lily, but Lily was particularly talented. _

 

_ Yes, I am currently working, but it is only a part time job.  I’m sure that you’re aware that most people are hesitant to hire those who suffer lycanthropy.   I’m not sure if I would ever want to work at Hogwarts.  Thank you for your belief that I would make a good Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, but I cannot imagine that parents would be comfortable with a werewolf teaching their children. _

 

_ I hope that answers all your questions _

 

_ Yours, _

 

_ Remus Lupin _

 

  “He wrote you again,” Romulus said, looking over the letter.  Rosie grinned at him. 

 

  “Yes he did,” she said with a touch of pride.  “And he’s going to write me back yet again.  I’ll make sure of it.”  She already had ideas for a million questions she wanted to ask him.

 

  “The bluebell-spirits must be bringing you luck,” Luna said with a placid smile.  “They bring me luck as well.  I feel them around you a lot.”

 

  “Maybe that’s why we’re such good friends,” Rosie replied to Luna, leaning her head on Luna’s shoulder affectionately.  Luna seemed particularly pleased by her response.

 

Rosie was quite preoccupied with all her new classes (as well as learning all she could about Animagi in her spare time), that she did not notice her link with Harry was darkening until early October.  It was not anything particularly obvious - it hard to even describe or pinpoint.  Initially, Rosie had thought that Harry was just adjusting to being at Hogwarts, and that his anxiety and unhappiness was fading away.  Yet, something about it was off.  At times, it almost felt like a heaviness in the back of her head.  It had an odd, shadowy quality that was impossible to interpret.  Sometimes, what she felt from Harry simply didn’t _ feel  _ like Harry.

 

  “Is everything alright, Harry?” she asked him (quietly) one day in the library.  It was where he was most likely to be found, studying with Hermione, and sometimes Neville.  He seemed pale to her, and unusually difficult to read.  There was an odd “blank” quality to him, not only because of the darkness that marred the link, but because his expressions nowadays often seemed empty.

 

  “Everything is fine,” he replied tonelessly.

 

  “What about potions?  And your other classes?” she continued.

 

  “It’s going well,” he said, and then turned back to his books.  Rosie looked over at Hermione, but Hermione was engrossed in whatever it was she was studying.

 

  “Do you want to speak to Sirius on the mirror later?” she asked.

 

  “Hm.  I’m busy.”  He reached into his school bag and took out the mirror, handing it to her.  “Here.  You probably use it more than I do.”  She took the mirror, but a shiver passed through her.  Harry was as close to Sirius as she was.  Couldn’t he even take a few minutes to speak to Sirius?  Rosie wasn’t sure what to make of it, but she couldn’t think of anything to do.

 

She looked over at what he was working on.  It appeared he was doing an assignment for Charms.  She found herself wondering if he ended up using that old black book to write down his ideas.  She almost forgot about it, but the memory stuck in her mind because that was when he had showed her one of her mother’s charms.

 

  “What happened to that little black book you had?” she asked her brother, curiously.  He looked at her blankly.  

 

  “Black book?”

 

  “Yeah, remember?  On the train?  You had it in your bookbag.  You told me you wanted to use it for charms, and it looks like you’re doing charms now.”

 

  “Oh.  I never really used it.  Don’t need it.” he replied.  The flatness of his voice was unsettling.  Harry’s attention returned to his studying, and he seemed to have forgotten her presence.  Rosie frowned, and walked to the other side of the table, sitting next to Hermione.

 

  “Hermione, how long has Harry been like that?” she asked in a whisper.  Hermione looked over at Harry.

 

  “Oh, he always gets really caught up in his studying.  I suppose that’s why we’re such good friends,” Hermione smiled affectionately.  Rosie looked at her oddly.  Did Hermione not notice the difference in Harry?  Rosie frowned.  Could it all be in her head?

 

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

 

Something was off about Potter, and Severus found himself feeling extremely suspicious.  In a disturbing sense, some part of him seemed to take pleasure in tormenting the boy.  He looked so much like James, that it was difficult to separate the difference between James and Harry.  But over the past couple of weeks, something about the boy had changed.  On the surface, it might have seemed like a good thing: the boy was doing better in his classes, and causing no trouble at all.  In fact, these days he was taking more points off Finnigan and his merry band of idiots, than he was taking off points from Potter.   It wasn’t that the classwork was getting easier - as they moved through the curriculum, the potions incrementally increased in difficult.  

 

Yet for some reason, Potter’s potions were not the horrible wrecks that he had come to expect.  In fact, some of his potions were even passable.  Severus wasn’t sure how he felt about it.  True, Potter’s potions were nowhere as good as his sister’s. Primrose (and her werewolf partner) tended to always turn out flawless or near flawless potions.  They were his best first-year students, so it was expected of them.  However, in no universe that he could imagine would Potter be described as a good potions student.

 

Not only that, the tone of the boy’s voice seemed to have changed.  Severus was used to the boy answering most of his questions correctly, but the boy usually answered in an unsteady, or subdued voice.  Now, Potter’s voice was simply - flat.  Had the boy gotten into some kind of mischief?  Potter used to be so easy to read - embarrassment, timidity, surprise, confusion, fear.  These were all emotions that he associated with Potter.  But now, Potter seemed strangely unruffled.

 

Potter still never met his eyes of course.  A change like that would have Severus instantly on high alert. However, if the boy did start meeting his eyes, then at least he would have been able to use Legilimency on him.  But no, whatever was going on, it was subtle.

 

Was Potter having personal difficulties?  He noticed that Potter did not get along with many of his housemates, but famous people were often known for being difficult.  One need look no further than Gilderoy Lockhart to see that famous people could be complete ninnies.  Why Albus had hired that fool was completely beyond Severus’s understanding.  Did the headmaster have no interest at all in ensuring a quality education for his dear charges?  Apparently not.

 

Severus tried to convince himself to let the matter go.  If Potter had changed, that was none of his businesses.  If he was doing better in potions, that could only be a good thing - it meant less ingredients wasted, and less cauldrons destroyed.  And yet, he found himself unable to stop thinking about it.

 

The oddness of Potter’s behaviour meant that he ended up scrutinizing Primrose more carefully, trying to determine if there was any change in her as well.  She seemed the same as ever - the more he observed her, the better he was able to separate her and Lily in his mind (which, if he ever gave it much thought, made it that much stranger that his impressions of Harry and James were so tangled).  Lily had always seemed more vivacious, more open and friendly.  Primrose, was more poised and calm.  Lily often seemed to be surrounded by people, who were drawn to her like moths to a flame.  Primrose (when he saw her outside his class, such as at the Great Hall), had a limited circle of friends.  And one of the most striking differences of all was that Lily had always seemed warm and welcoming, but Primrose struck him as almost icy.  (He did not seem to realize that this iciness was reserved largely for him).  Yet, despite these differences between her and Lily, he found that he generally had a positive impression of the girl.  She seemed interested in learning and in potions, and without really even thinking of it, he found himself guiding her, in small ways.

 

As for Potter, not only did he observe him more closely, but he even found himself going out of his way to consult the other staff at Hogwarts.  What was the world coming to, when he found himself actually  _ wanting _ to discuss Potter with anybody?  It felt like the world had been tossed on its head.

 

  “Severus!” Minerva said in surprise, when she saw the younger teacher at the door to her office.  “Come in!  What brings you here today?”  Minerva’s expression was concerned.  It was unusual to see Severus outside the dungeons.  Furthermore, Severus was not one for social calls - for him to be here suggested that something was wrong.

 

  “Minerva,” Severus greeted in his silky voice, as he entered the room.

 

  “Come, have a seat.  Would you like anything to drink?” Minerva asked while Severus seated himself in a chair by the fire.

 

  “I’m not here on a social call.”  Severus replied, his expression pensive.

 

  “I gathered as much.”  Minerva sat in the chair across from him.  “What’s the matter? Nothing serious, I hope?”  Severus started into the flames, and he seemed lost in thought.  Minerva looked towards the fire as well, giving him a moment to think.  She knew that it never did any good to push Severus.

 

  “Have you noticed anything - different about Potter?” He asked, after a moment.  “Mr. Potter, that is.”  Minerva furrowed her brow, and considered.

 

  “Mr. Potter has always been a studious boy,” Minerva said cautiously.  “He has never caused me a moment of trouble.”

 

  “I’m not suggesting he is in trouble, Minerva.  No need to get protective over your precious Gryffindors.  I merely wish to know if you have observed any changes in Mr. Potter’s behaviour.”

 

  “I don’t believe so,” Minerva said with a frown.  “He does consistently well in classes, and none of his friends have come to me about any changes in his behaviour.”

 

 “Hmm.”  Severus was thoughtful.

 

  “What’s the matter, Severus?  What have you noticed?”

 

  “He’s doing better with his Potions.” Severus replied.

 

  “Isn’t it a good thing?  Don’t tell me your grudge against James extends to the boy, that you can’t be happy for his success.”

 

Severus frowned.  “If it were only that, I would let it go.  However, there is something different about the way he acts, and the way he speaks.  It seems as though he isn’t entirely - there.”

 

  “Could it be the workload of classes?”

 

  “He’s in second year, Minerva.  The workload is light.  And as you said, he’s a studious boy.  He and Miss Granger are undoubtedly ahead in all their classes.”  Minerva pursed her lips.

 

  “It could very well be stress,” Minerva said, after a moment.  “Mr. Potter, unfortunately, does not get along well with all his year mates.”

 

  “Hm.  Perhaps you’re right, Minerva.”  Despite his words, Severus did not seem convinced. 

 

  “Well, thank you for bringing this to my attention Severus.  I shall keep an eye out for him, regardless.”  Severus nodded, and stood up to leave.  

 

  “Are you quite sure you don’t want to stay for a drink?”  Minerva asked, hoping that the younger teacher would eventually relax and perhap even befriend the other members of the staff.

 

  “I’m afraid I have a lot of marking to do tonight.  Good Evening, Minerva.”  He inclined his head politely towards her.  

 

  “Good evening, Severus,” Minerva replied.  As Severus walked back towards the dungeon, he considered the situation.  Nothing had been solved, but he was determined to keep an eagle eye on Potter.

 

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

 

Romulus was sitting at one of the desks in the Ravenclaw common room, rather than his usual seat by the window.  He had  _ Beginner’s Guide to Transfiguration _ open on the desk, and was using it to reference several points in his essay, which was due on Monday.  He knew he had plenty of time to work on it, but he liked finishing his assignments early.  He copied the diagrams and formulas with care, taking pride in his precise hand.  Like many of the other Ravenclaws, he found Transfigurations interesting - not as interesting as potions, of course, but to him, no other subject was.

 

It was a lovely early October afternoon, and the first-year Ravenclaws had a spare in this period.  Many of them were in the common room, as well as some of the other older students, but Primrose was nowhere in sight.  He wasn’t sure whether or not he felt relieved or disappointed.

 

He had gotten used to her quiet company.  When he had first met her, he had assumed that she was like most other wizards and witches - annoying, invasive, full of artifice or self-absorbed.  That, or fearful, and disgusted if they ever came to be aware that he was a werewolf.  Primrose did ask rather personal questions, and she did press her company upon him.  He still didn’t feel comfortable with anyone knowing too much about himself.  Yet, as he got to know her (not through discourse, but through observation), he found that he almost liked her.  Almost - sometimes he wasn’t so sure.  It wasn’t necessarily that she stood out from the crowd (as far as he could tell), or that she was dramatically different from other people.  Perhaps it was just what his instincts told him - that she could be trusted.  That she wasn’t pretending to him like, and seemed to actually genuinely like him (though he made no effort at all to be liked).  For some reason, he didn’t feel any inclination to push her away, or to make an effort to avoid her.  Primrose just  _ was _ .

 

He frowned as he realized his train of thoughts.  When did he care, what anyone other than Remus, was or was not?  Thinking of Remus reminded him that the full moon would be coming up in a few days, on Sunday.  Professor Snape had given him a batch of wolfsbane potion last month and had handed him another batch just yesterday.  When Romulus had asked him detailed questions about his brewing techniques, the professor had seemed surprised, but not displeased.

 

  “If it wouldn’t trouble you, may I watch you brew it sometime, sir?” Romulus had asked respectfully.  Professor had given him an inscrutable look with his black eyes, before nodding.

 

  “Come to my office on the last Sunday of the month at 7 o’clock.   _ Do Not _ touch anything, and do not make a sound as I work,” the Professor said, in his soft and dangerous voice.

 

  “Thank you, sir,” Romulus replied.

 

  He was grateful for the wolfsbane potion, but in truth, he never actually took it.  He was supposed to go to the Shrieking Shack every full moon, and always pretended to do so, but then he would backtrack, and spend his time roaming the forbidden forest with only his wolf instincts to guide him.  Wolfsbane potion was one of the most difficult potions to make, and on top of that, the ingredients were expensive.  It was more than Remus could afford on his paltry salary.  So instead, Romulus sent his batch of potions to Remus, with a note attached saying it was ‘extra that he didn’t need.’

 

Remus didn’t need to know the truth, and for Remus, having his human mind in control was important when the full moon came.  Romulus had a rather opposite perspective - he liked the single mindedness of his once-a-month wolf instincts.  It was like being free of all his burdens, and he could focus on hunting, exploring, or occasionally getting into scuffles with other animals.  As long as he didn’t encounter any humans in his wolf form (which would be too tempting to eat), he was fine.

 

He forced his attention back on his essay.  As he scratched at his parchment, he could hear one of the students coming through the Ravenclaw entryway behind him.  Judging by the smell, it was Primrose’s friend - what was her name?  Something related to the moon - Lune?  No, Luna.  That was it.  He paused, subtly scenting the air to smell if Primrose had followed her, but it seemed as though Luna was alone.  He expected to see Luna walk past his desk and head up to the dorms.  Luna was someone who was rarely ever in the common rooms.  However, when she failed to do so, he couldn’t help but turn in his seat to see what she was up to.

 

She was carrying an odd assortment of items on some sort of tray: what looked like a scrap of rainbow-y fabric, bits of string, flowers, feathers, pieces of what looked like chicken bones, and rocks.  Romulus wasn’t the only who had turned to look at Luna.  It seemed as though everyone in the room was looking at her as well.  Most of the House was accustomed to her unusual behaviour.  Afterall, Ravenclaw House did have a history of producing some rather quirky and unique characters and oddballs.  And Luna wasn’t the only strange person who currently resided in the Ravenclaw Nest.  There was the fifth year who had a habit of wearing all his clothes backwards, walking backwards, and (annoyingly) speaking in backwards sentences (“Today, you are how?” “Day beautiful very a is it, Yes”).  There was also two third years and sixth year that were considered rather odd ducks.

 

However, to the alarm of everyone in the common room, Luna was entering Toby’s 'territory.'  Toby Woodbridge and his Triad of Brilliance were currently still in classes, so the territory was empty (of course).  However, it was as if there was an invisible line that everyone knew not to cross.  Romulus himself was well aware of the nature of territorial behaviour - if anything, he understood it better than most.  Crossing into someone else's territory could very well get you killed.  Luna, however, seemed to be completely oblivious to this “fact” that everyone else took for granted.

 

There seemed to be a collective gasp (albeit a quiet one), as everyone watched Luna walk over to Toby’s chair.  She set her tray of items on the low coffee table that sat in front of the chair (across the coffee table was a sofa, where Toby’s friends Samir and Christopher usually sat.  If one was particularly favoured by Toby, sometimes he might even permit an outsider to pull up a chair, alongside the coffee table.)  The Ravenclaws looked at each other, and then looked at Luna, wide-eyed in shock.

 

Luna (still oblivious to all the eyes upon her), was taking the items off the tray, and arranging them in a very particular pattern on the table.  She seemed completely engrossed in what she was doing.  The other Ravenclaws were starting to whisper about her, but she did not seem to hear.  None of them warned her away, or tried to do anything to help.

 

Unable to bear the situation (Luna was Primrose’s friend after all), Romulus stood up from his desk, and went over to Luna.

 

  “Luna,” he said in a low, hushed voice.  She looked up to him and smiled serenely.

 

  “Hello, Romulus.”

 

  “Luna, you can’t sit there.  You have to leave.”

 

  “Leave?  Why?  This is the only spot in the tower where I can create a tumbling-bouloedinker nest.”

 

 “It doesn’t matter,” Romulus said, his voice almost an urgent hiss.  “This territory is taken.  You  _ have  _ to leave.”

 

He was almost ready to reach over and physically pull her away, when he heard the entry to the Ravenclaw common room open, and Toby and his Triad (as well as a group of other fourth years who had just finished their class) sauntered in.  The blood left Romulus’s face.

 

All eyes in the room were on Toby - even the fourth years who had pooled in behind him - and Toby was looking directly at Luna.  It seemed as though everyone had collectively held their breath at once, terrified to see what would happen.  Toby’s expression didn’t change.  There was no tightening of his jaw, or hardening of his eyes.  He looked completely calm and unruffled.  Samir and Christopher however, shared a knowing glance, and then looked at Toby with expressions that could almost be described as “guarded.”

 

Toby walked up to Luna, and Romulus longed to step away, but he held place.  Though his instincts screamed  _ Run!  This is enemy territory, Run! _  he forced himself to stay on the spot.  He couldn’t bring himself to toss Luna to the (enemy) wolves.  Toby seemed to ignore Romulus completely.  Instead, he stood near the edge of the coffee table, and looked curiously down at the coffee table and then at Luna.  

 

Toby’s posture was completely relaxed.  He didn’t cross his arms - just kept his one hand on his bookbag, looking entirely casual.  Luna, in turn, looked curiously back at Toby.  ‘Doesn’t she know what kind of danger she is in?’ Romulus thought frantically, looking at Luna, before nervously flicking his glance at Toby.

 

  “Hello,” Toby said to Luna.  His voice had a rich, silky quality, but it was not like Snape’s.  It was a bit more lilting and musical.  There was no edge of threat in his voice.  Toby sounded almost solicitous and friendly.

 

  “Hello,” Luna replied, her expression still unruffled, though the curiosity remained.

 

  “You’re one of the first years aren’t you?” He asked.  Luna nodded.

 

  “I don’t see you around very much,” Toby continued softly, smoothly, but loud enough that the entire (silent) common room could hear.  “What was your name again?  Hmm - Loony, was it?”  Toby’s expression remained completely innocent.  Romulus shivered.  He knew that where Toby led, the rest would follow.  It was an act of pure malice, and he had essentially set the whole Ravenclaw house against Luna without her even knowing.

 

  “No, my name is Luna,” Luna replied.

 

  “Hmm,” Toby replied.  He smiled, but it was a hard-edged smile, not a real one. “I do hope you’ll enjoy your time here in Ravenclaw.  Luna.”  Toby then turned to look at Romulus.

 

  “And what of yourself, Lupus Hominis,” Toby said, his voice low and quiet enough so that only Romulus and Luna could hear.  Romulus paled.  Albus Dumbledore had promised that his identity as a werewolf would not be revealed to the other students.  How did Toby know?

 

 “Well? Do you have anything to say?”  Toby asked, in his hypnotic voice.  It sounded like an innocent question but it was essentially a threat.  If Romulus made the wrong move, Toby was threatening to reveal his identity as a werewolf to the student body.  He couldn’t do it - he couldn’t bring himself to be exposed.  Shaking his head, he took a step back.  He hated submitting - hated it more than anything, but this was not his fight.

 

Toby smiled, but this time with a glimmer of amusement.  He turned to look at Samir and Christopher, and tilted his head towards the dorms.  They nodded in understanding, and the Triad went up to their room.  When the door shut behind them, everyone breathed a sigh of relief.


	7. Chapter 7

Primrose had been in the library on her spare, working on her homework with Harry, Hermione and Neville.  Harry still seemed ‘off’ to her, and she could not stop thinking or fretting about it.  Rosie had asked Neville (in a whisper) whether he had noticed any changes in Harry, but like Hermione, Neville seemed to think that Harry was pretty normal (“He just pushes himself too hard - it makes him a bit tired, I guess.”)  Neville’s words failed to reassure her, but she wasn’t sure what she could do.

 

If only she could get into the Gryffindor common room - perhaps something there would yield a hint.  She looked over at Hermione, then Harry, and then Neville.  It couldn’t hurt to ask, she supposed.

 

  “What’s the Gryffindor common room like?” she asked curiously.  Hermione and Neville, looked up from their homework, and and after a pause, began to describe it to her, rather enthusiastically, with lots of hand waving, and gesticulating (“It’s round” “with big squashy armchairs” “it’s got scarlet and gold hangings” “and plush carpets” “and a huge fireplace” “and a big window.”)  It was a good thing they kept their voices quiet, or Madam Pince, the librarian would have kicked them out.

 

  “Could I come up and see it?  I’ve always been curious about Gryffindor tower,” Rosie said innocently.

 

Hermione looked shocked by the suggestion.  “Rosie!  That’s against the rules!”  Neville looked at her sheepishly, and shrugged.  Harry was mostly unresponsive.  Ah well, she hadn’t expect it to work anyway.

 

When Rosie returned to the Ravenclaw Nest, her first thought was that something felt wrong, but she decided she was just being paranoid because of Harry’s odd behaviour.  She went past the common room, up to the dormitories.  Luna was lying her her stomach, her head propped on her hands as she read  _ The Quibbler _ .  Edine and Sakiko were sitting cross-legged on Edine’s bed, as usual.

 

  “Hi, Luna.  Is that a new edition of  _ The Quibbler _ ?”  Rosie walked up to the side of Luna’s bed, peering at the magazine.

 

 “Oh!  The Heliopath conspiracy?” Rosie asked, as she read the headline on the open page.  Luna looked up her and nodded.

 

  “The minister’s recruiting heavily,” Luna murmured.

 

  “How can you believe anything that  _ Loony _ says!” Edine called out.  “Everyone knows that  _ The Quibbler  _ is rubbish!”  Sakiko smirked.

 

  “What are you talking about?” Rosie snapped in irritation.  She rather thought that Edine and Sakiko were small-minded (academically intelligent yes, but still small-minded).  They were what one would describe as textbook smart, or book smart.

 

  “We mean that  _ Loony _ and her loony magazine are loony,” Sakiko replied, with a malicious smile.

 

  “The magazine is not loony, and her name is Luna!” Rosie replied, enunciating each word.

 

  “Oh, sorry,” Edine replied, wide-eyed, her voice dripping with fakeness.  “I thought that there was only one loony in the room, but I guess there’s two.”

 

 “What’s wrong with you two?” Rosie replied with a mix of anger and confusion.  She knew that Edine and Sakiko didn’t see eye to eye with Luna, but they had never been outright cruel before.

 

  “She doesn’t get it,” Sakiko said, looking over at Edine, her lip curled.

 

Edine snickered. “Of course not, she wasn’t even there.” Edine’s voice was thick with smugness.

 

  “Wasn’t there for what?” Rosie snapped.

 

  “Should we tell her?” Sakiko asked Edine.

 

  “Hm.  I don’t know,” Edine gave Rosie a look that suggested that she had mischief in mind.  “If you admit that you’re a loony, we’ll tell you.”

 

  “Why would I do that?”  Rosie wanted to throw her hands up in frustration.  She couldn’t help but think that both Edine an Sakiko were being ridiculously childish.  Rosie shook her head.  “Nevermind, I don’t care.”  Rosie turned away from the pair of girls.

 

  “Loony sat in Toby’s chair,” Edine called out to her.

 

  “What?” Rosie exclaimed, and then looked at Luna incredulously.  She looked back at Edine and Sakiko who seemed intent on Rosie’s every expression.

 

  “Luna, you were in the common room today?” Rosie asked, scanning her friend’s face with concern.

 

  “Yes,” Luna replied.  “I was building a tumbling-bouloedinker nest.”  Edine and Sakiko snickered.

 

  “You sat in Toby’s chair?”

 

  “Toby?  You mean the one that looks a cat-slyph?” Luna asked.

 

  “Erm - I suppose he does have a rather feline cast, yes,” Rosie replied, distracted by the mental image.  “So you did sit in his chair?”

 

  “I sat in the best spot to make a nest,” Luna responded.  Rosie frowned.

 

 “Luna-” she started, then looked up at Edine and Sakiko who were still watching, wide-eyed.  With a scowl, Rosie sat on Luna’s bed, and tugged the hangings rather sharply so that they could have privacy.

 

  “Luna, I think Toby is really - dangerous.  Just - don’t do that again, okay?  I don’t want anything to happen to you.” 

 

  “What do you think would happen?” Luna asked, curiously.

 

  “I don’t know.  I just have a bad feeling about that guy.  He gives me chills.”  Rosie ran her hands up and down her arms.

 

  “And ignore Edine and Sakiko.  They’re just - stupid.”  Luna’s lip quirked upwards. 

 

 “I don’t think they can help it,” Luna said serenely.  “Their heads are full of wrackspurts.”

 

 “I suppose you’re right,” Rosie replied, a small smile tugging at her lips.

 

As the days passed, Primrose felt that she was both getting more hours of sleep (thanks to not being jolted awake by Harry’s nightmares), and yet feeling less rested.  The empathic link she had with Harry felt continually dark.  It felt as though something was looming over her (or inside her) - something foreign and unfamiliar.  She didn’t like it at all.

 

The feeling of it had not intensified, thankfully - it was just that it was constant.  It did not hurt, and objectively, it wasn’t actually unpleasant.  It just wasn’t  _ Harry _ .  Since it did not appear as though the problem was going to go away on it’s own, she decided she needed to do something about it.  It was time to put the invisibility cloak to good use.  (‘Hm - note to self.  I still have to research the Hallows’ she thought).  So, she tucked the cloak in her schoolbag one day, and after supper in the Great Hall, she made her way to an isolated corridor, threw the invisibility cloak over herself and then went back out, following Seamus and his group of Gryffindor friends to their common room.  She had worried that with the empathic link, Harry would be able to detect her, and while she had considered following other Gryffindors, she knew these boys were in the same year as Harry, and thus would be in the same dormitory.

 

  “Why does Snape have to be such a git,” the red head Ron was whining.

 

  “I told you to to cut the rat tail into smaller slivers,” the dark haired, dark skinned boy Dean was saying.

 

  “Well, then why didn’t you just do it yourself!” Ron snapped with irritation.

 

  “Yer potion still turned out better than mine,” Seamus said mournfully.  “When I handed mine in, Snape looked at me like I was a rat infected with Stinkitis.”

 

  “That’s tough mate.” Ron sympathetically patted Seamus on the back.

 

  “I can’t believe that Potter never messes up on his potions anymore,” Dean said, a note of irritation mingled with disbelief in his voice.

 

  “I know,” Seamus replied. “I thought for sure that Potter just had two left hands, and would never be able to get potions right.”

 

  “His potions are better than mine now,” Ron complained. “And now Snape spends all his time snapping at me.”

 

  “Meanwhile fawning all over Malfoy,” Dean said darkly.

 

  “He’s such a bloody prat.  I wish I could just hex boils all over his his stupid smug little ferret face,” Ron muttered.

 

They turned a corner, climbed up a set of stairs, and turned another corner.  Rosie listened to their conversation with interest.  It was odd.  Harry hadn’t told her anything about doing better in potions.  She was relieved of course - she knew he had the skill and ability.  Still, it was strange of him to have not mentioned it.  Of course, these days, he didn’t mention much.  Even Sirius seemed hurt whenever she called him on the two-way mirror without Harry.

 

They came up to a portrait of a fat lady, wearing flowing feminine garments, and her her hands in a dainty position.

 

  “Dibble-dobble,” the boys said.  The portrait swung open, and they walked inside, Rosie following.

 

Rosie looked around the Gryffindor common room with interest.  It was much like Hermione and Neville had described.  She decided that she preferred the Ravenclaw common room though.  The Ravenclaw Nest had windows all around the perimeter, whereas the Gryffindor common room only had a single window.  While she was tempted to take more time examining the difference between the Ravenclaw and Gryffindor common rooms, the boys were heading up a set of stairs to their dorm.  She quickly followed them into the room.

 

The dorm rooms reminded her very much of the Ravenclaw dorm rooms, if one exchanged blue and bronze for red and gold.  There were five beds, for the five second year boys.  Ron, Dean and Seamus all threw themselves upon their own beds, which meant that one of the last two beds was Harry’s.  Luckily, she identified his trunk.  While the three boys chatted, she silently explored the area around Harry’s bed.  His space was very neat - he seemed to have left nothing out.  She remembered Neville mentioning that the other boys stole Harry’s stuff, so it made sense.

 

She went up to his trunk, and tried opening it, but as expected, it was locked.  She even peeked under his bed.  Unfortunately, there was nothing down there - not even dust bunnies.  It seemed that this particular mission was a waste.  Perhaps she needed to look into his schoolbag, though he always carried it with him.

 

She left the boy’s dorm, and walked a circle around the Gryffindor common room, careful to avoid the students.  She saw the Weasley twins sitting in a corner, and when she drew near, she could hear them plotting a prank with one of the items that Harry had probably given them.  She quirked her lips in amusement, and decided it was time to leave.  Of course, she had to wait until someone exited or entered the room, but it wasn’t a long wait.  She slipped out past the portrait and headed down one of the halls.

 

Finding the invisibility cloak encumbering, she took it off, and stuffed it back in her bookbag.  It was getting late and she needed to make her way back to the Nest.  She was about to head in that direction, when she heard a sibilant sound that seemed to come from the walls.

 

  “ _ So hungry…..Hungry…..Come….Let me tear you…. Come to me….. _ ” it hissed.  She recognized it immediately as parseltongue.  ‘Oh dear,’ Rosie thought. ‘a snake from the forbidden forest must have gotten trapped in the castle, poor thing. It’s probably lost its way in the maze of corridors.  I imagine it’s starving.’  It certainly spoke like a snake (at least that’s how some of the snakes in her experience spoke to their prey.  Not all of them - some had more interesting things to say, but others only cared about food and mating).  However, the snake also sounded rather - big.  Whatever it was, she would have to act with care.  If it was big enough, then she would end up being it’s prey.  Hopefully, it would be willing to listen to her.  If not - well - then she’d just have to run.

 

She decided to follow the hissing sound, unable to resist the call of an animal in need.   She climbed down a set of stairs, turned a corner, and as she walked along the stretch of corridor, she noticed a sparkly purple jumper hanging off a decorative sconce on the wall.  It looked vaguely familiar.  As she got closer to the item, she noticed that the jumper had a big orange kneazle embroidered on the front of it.  It was enchanted so that the kneazle’s tail waved back and forth.  It was Luna’s jumper!  But how did it get up there?  There was no way she would be able to reach it.  It was simply too high.

 

She frowned, as she considered the way the other Ravenclaws treated Luna.  It was awful - all because of that horrible, horrible Toby that they all worshiped.  She was so distracted by the hissing in the walls and the sight of the jumper that she did not notice Professor Snape until he was almost upon her.  When she saw the black form, moving like an immense bat in the corner of her eye, she was glad she didn’t flinch.

 

She turned to face him, her expression well schooled.  Knowing that he was no longer picking on Harry made her feel better about him, but she still resented Professor Snape’s past treatment of her brother.  Her hazel-green eyes were icy as he the Professor stopped in front of her.

 

   “It’s nearly curfew, Miss Potter.  Shouldn’t you be in your room?” He asked in his silky voice.

 

   “I was on my way there, sir,” she said, meeting his eyes.  “But my sweater.”  She looked up at the sparkly purple and orange jumper.  Snape looked up at the garish, glittering jumper and raised an eyebrow.  It certainly was an - ostentatious garment.  Without a word, Professor Snape pulled the jumper off the sconce and handed it to her.

 

  “Thank you, sir,” she said to him.  She walked around him, wanting to return the jumper to Luna.  Remembering her manners at the last minute, stopped and turned around.

 

   “Good night Professor,” she said, her the iciness gone from her eyes.  He inclined his head.

 

   “Good night, Miss Potter.”

 

In the following days, more and more of Luna’s things seemed to go missing.  She always kept her eye out for Luna’s possessions, which showed up in random places (and even enlisted Neville, Hermione and Harry’s help).  Luna seemed to maintain her equanimity about the whole thing.  However, Rosie was furious.  

 

She was sitting in the Great Hall at breakfast one day, shooting daggers with her eyes at Edine and Sakiko.  Romulus was, as always, intent on his food, and Luna was stirring her strawberry syrup-pumpkin juice mix placidly.  Though Luna seemed oblivious, the air seemed to crackle with tension.  Edine and Sakiko never hesitated to insult Luna or even Rosie when they were on their own, but Romulus made them nervous.

 

As for Rosie, as tempting as it was to berate the two girls for their utter air-headed cruelty, she knew that the rest of the Ravenclaws were on their side.  The few that weren’t, such as Alec Perriss, had chosen to remain neutral, and were of no help at all.

 

She was distracted from her rage by an owl, bearing yet another letter from Remus.  Seeing it caused much of her anger to dissipate.  Excitedly, she opened the letter.

 

_ Dear Rosie, _

 

_ Does it really make you that happy to hear from me?  I’m happy that it makes you happy, but surely, you don’t actually remember anything about me.  I don’t want you to get your hopes up, thinking that I am something that I’m not.  I’m not Sirius and I’m not James.  We were friends, but we were also very different people.  _

 

_ Yes, I agree that it can be unfair that people are so prejudiced against werewolves.  But you must remember that not all of them are like me or like Rom.  Some of them are incredibly cruel.  The one that bit me certainly was. _

 

_ I adopted Rom when he was two.  But he’s like my own son to me.  I wouldn’t trade him for the world.   _

 

_ Yes, I did help Sirius and James to create the two-way mirror, but no, I don’t have one of my own. _

 

_ No, I don’t have very many friends.  It’s strange to even have you writing me.  I really don’t deserve your kindness.  You ask me why?  You would probably hate me if I told you. _

 

_ You’re a very sweet girl, but there’s a lot you don’t understand about me.  The last thing I want to do is hurt you. _

 

_ I’m sorry, _

 

_ Remus Lupin _

 

Rosie frowned as she read the letter.  Remus certainly seemed to suffer under a lot of guilt.  And didn’t he know that saying something like ‘you would probably hate me if I told you,’ would just make her more curious than ever?  She already knew how she would reply to him.  There was no way she was going to give up on Remus Lupin.

 

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

 

It was the last Sunday in the month of October, and Romulus had his meeting with Professor Snape that evening.  He had been looking forward to this day all month.  He even reviewed the wolfsbane recipe again, even though he knew it by heart.

 

He had finished most of his assignments, so he decided he would spend the day exploring more of Hogwarts.  Primrose was with Luna in the library - both of them were working on essays for History of Magic.  Romulus was used to exploring with Primrose, and it almost seemed odd to not hear her footsteps behind him or smell her rain-like scent.  At the same time, her presence could also be a bit of a distraction - his senses almost seemed more alert when she wasn’t around.

 

Romulus was determined to discover as many of Hogwarts’ secrets as possible.  Though he was not particularly social, he forced himself to speak to the portraits or to the ghosts, who were willing to give hints to polite and friendly students.  From one of the portraits (a garrulous old man dressed in Elizabethan hunting clothes) he had learned about the location of the Hogwarts Kitchen.  This, of course, was a delight.  During the period before and after the full moon, he tended to be extremely ravenous.  Knowing that he could go down to the kitchens and gorge on all sorts of meat meant his stay at Hogwarts could be much more enjoyable.

 

He had uncovered a secret tunnel by twisting one of the decorative swirls in the stonework, but the tunnel only led to more corridors.  Many of the tapestries hid passage ways, and he had checked behind almost all of them already.  Some of the tapestries were even booby trapped, but his quick reflexes had enabled him to avoid most of the more bothersome traps.  Romulus usually made an effort to avoid people as much as possible, but every so often, he would observe the other students if he thought he could discover something that would be to his advantage.  It could be interesting to learn what people got into when they didn’t think they were being watched. 

 

Romulus was fairly sure that he knew almost all the common snogging spots in the school.  He had seen several students blackmailing other students (and had learned some interesting secrets in the process).  He knew that numerous students were keeping pets against the school rules. One or two students had little boas (he had no idea what those students would do when the snakes were full grown).  At least one student had a crup.  Another student kept a little bluebird.  How the student managed to keep a little bluebird alive in a castle full of cats was beyond him.

 

He also witnessed a fair number of fights, which had introduced him to a good number of hexes and jinxes.  These he usually practiced on his own in empty classrooms, or sometimes in the Forest.  He did have a few books on Hexes and Jinxes of course (his own, since the school’s books were in the restricted section), but it helped to see them in action.  He never interfered with the fights - in fact, he rarely interfered with anything he saw.  He didn’t really see it as being any of his business.

 

Romulus also came across many of Luna’s possessions.  It wasn’t always obvious of course - at least if it were based only on sight.  However, her belongings carried her distinctive odor.  Whenever he came across these, he always collected them and gave them to Primrose.  He knew she would appreciate it.

 

He also knew who the culprits were, who stole Luna’s belongings and scattered them throughout the school.  Unfortunately, the culprits covered a large number of Ravenclaw House from first to fifth years, so exposing them would do no good.  At least the sixth and seventh years seemed to think that picking on a first year was too petty to indulge.

 

As he wandered along a passageway, he heard a group of girls chatting.  They were Ravenclaw third years: Marietta Edgecombe, Sarah Kempston, and Cho Chang - the Triad’s little groupies.  He had a strong dislike for the girls.  Cho wasn’t too bad, but the other two were extremely vindictive, and represented the some of the aspects of humanity that he hated most.  He could hear them talking to one another and they sounded excited.

 

  “I just saw them come out of the library,” Sarah the brunette was saying.

 

  “Come on! Let’s follow them,” Marietta said, with malicious glee in her voice.  Marietta had reddish-blonde hair in corkscrew curls, and was very pretty.  Unfortunately, her prettiness was marred by her conceit and her petty personality.

 

 “Shh!!” one of the girls said, and they tip toed along in a tight group.  Romulus knew, almost immediately, who their target was.  After all, the girls followed whatever direction Toby gave them.  At the moment, the focus of all their attacks were Luna, and by extension Primrose.

 

  “They’re heading up the stairs!   Come on,” Marietta hissed.

 

  “What are you planning, Mari?” Cho asked.  “They’re just first years.  This seems like a waste of effort.”

 

  “Shut up, Cho,” said Sarah. “It’s fun.”

 

Romulus followed the girls as they in turn followed Primrose and Luna.

 

  “There’s a set of stairs up ahead, going downwards,” Marietta whispered.  “I’m going to hit them with the Trip Jinx.”  Sarah’s eyes were sparkling, but Cho’s expression was dismayed.

 

  “They could seriously get hurt!” Cho exclaimed.  “Ugh, leave me out of this.  I’m going.”

 

  “Coward,” Sarah hissed.  “Are you going to cry to Cedric?”

 

  “Shut up,” Cho said, before stalking off.

 

Sarah and Marietta crept along silently, waiting for the moment when Luna and Primrose were close enough to the stairs.  They had their wands out and pointed.  However, there was no way that Romulus would let anyone hurt Primrose (and by extension Luna).  Though he did not voice it (even to himself), Primrose almost felt like part of his pack, and wolves protected their pack.

 

Pulling his wand out, he cast one of the newest hexes he had learned at the two girls: the Jelly-Brain Jinx.  He cast the jinx twice in quick succession at each of them.  The wands in their hands were dropped, and they their faces became slack-jawed.    Afterall, he didn’t want the girl’s remembering or identifying his voice - the girls would be completely befuddled, and wouldn’t know what hit them.

 

Though Romulus knew he should have let it go, he couldn’t resist doing a little extra damage.  He pointed his wand and cast the instant scalping hex, leaving them both as bald as cue balls.  With a dark laugh, he disappeared back into the shadows, leaving Primrose and Luna to go on their way, safely back to the tower.

 

At about 6:55pm, Romulus found himself in front of the Snape’s office in the dungeons.  Though he was tempted to knock on the door early, he knew that Professor Snape could be very particular, so he waited until 7o’clock exactly before he knocked.

 

  “Come in,” the Professor called out.  Romulus opened the door, and entered Professor Snape’s office.  The office was dimly lit and rather gloomy.  The walls were lined with jars and jars of various interesting specimens.  Romulus wished that he could examine each one closely, but he kept his attention on the Professor.

 

  “This way,” the Professor said.  Snape led him through a door into what appeared the be the Professor’s private lab.  It was a spacious room, slightly chilled (which Romulus knew was better for storing potion ingredients), and meticulously clean.  The walls here were also lined with jars, however these jars contained potion ingredients, all neatly labelled and dated.  Romulus found himself feeling impressed.  He was also incredibly excited - after all, these ingredients were a treasure trove of potential.  Many of the labels listed familiar items, but there were just as many ingredients that Romulus had read about, but had never before seen.  Some of the ingredients were worth a veritable fortune.  Through sheer discipline, he kept his emotions well hidden.

 

  The lab was set up slightly differently than it was in the classrooms.  Clearly the professor had his own special system.  Romulus examined the set-up carefully, and could already mentally imagine ways that the Professor’s system would make brewing more efficient.

 

  “What is your knowledge of wolfsbane potion?” the professor asked, his voice neutral, rather than dangerous.   ‘Straight to the point,’ Romulus thought.  Even out of classes, Snape wasn’t one for small talk.

 

  “Only the recipe, sir,” Romulus replied.  “I know it by heart, but I’ve never attempted it.”

 

  “Nor should you, at your experience level,” Snape replied.  The potion was, after all, extremely dangerous to brew.  If the child were to try, he’d likely be seriously hurt.

 

  “If you know the recipe, then bring me all the ingredients,” the professor said, indicating towards the shelves.  “They are all alphabetically arranged.”  Romulus nodded, and did as the Professor commanded.

 

Snape worked silently, and with obvious skill, and, Romulus watched the process with fascination.  He didn’t make a single sound, and (to Snape’s approval), he did not hover over him as Snape worked.  He sat on a stool, a respectful distance away, not asking any questions, or making any distracting movements, like fidgeting.

 

When Professor Snape was half way through the potion (after two and a half hours of continuous brewing), the Professor put a stasis on the potion.

 

  “I will finish the rest of the potion tomorrow evening,” he told Romulus.  “If you wish to see the rest, be here at 7o’clock tomorrow.”

 

  “Thank you sir,” Romulus replied, genuinely grateful.  He remained in his seat, and Snape gave him an odd look.

 

  “Was there anything else you wanted, Mr. Lupin?” the professor asked, but this time, there was a dangerous edge in his voice.

 

  “Yes, Professor.  I was wondering if you’d be willing to take the time assign me extra projects.”

 

  “Why should I make the effort to do that for a first year?” Snape sneered.

 

  “I can already brew all the first year potions, sir,” Romulus said.  “I can brew the second year potions as well.”

 

Snape’s expression was inscrutable as he examined Romulus.

 

  “I will have a recipe for you to brew tomorrow evening.  If you can create it flawlessly, then I shall consider your request.” 

 

  “Thank you sir.”

 

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

 

By the end of October, the Ravenclaws were excited to be told that they would finally be doing the practical component of the levitation charm in Professor Flitwick’s class.  While the theory had continued to be very engrossing, the Ravenclaws were eager to learn actual wand work.  Of course, many of the Ravenclaws were rather smug because their parents had allowed them to practice with their own wands, and they already knew a number of charms.  Rosie herself was certainly experienced.  

 

The Ravenclaws had charms with the Gryffindors, and Professor Flitwick had put them into pairs that day.  Knowing (rather proudly) that his intelligent Ravenclaws would likely be more experienced and skilled, he paired the Ravenclaws with Gryffindors.  Thus, Rosie found herself paired with Ginerva Weasley, or Ginny as she preferred to be called.  They stood at their desks, with large fluffy feathers in front of them.

 

  “Swish and flick!” Professor Flitwick was saying.  “And pay attention to your enunciation!”  The Ravenclaws had trouble hiding their smugness when many of them were able to do it on either their first or second try.  For the Gryffindors, it was a bit more challenging.

 

Rosie had managed to get the feather floating on the second try, and Ginny had managed by her seventh attempt. The redhead beamed, once the feather trembled, before lifting off the table.

 

  “Good work, Miss Weasley!” Flitwick said with a wide smile.  Rosie and Ginny grinned at each other.  It was impossible not to like Professor Flitwick - he had a way of making his classes a lot of fun.

 

  “So,” said Ginny, “You’re Harry’s sister?”

 

  “Yeah,” Rosie replied. “Is it that obvious?”

 

  “Well, I’ve seen you two together.  You seem really close.”  Rosie smiled, but she felt a twinge of sadness.  She did not feel very close to Harry these days.

 

  “I’m surprised you didn’t get sorted into Gryffindor,” Ginny continued.  “Harry mentioned that both your parents were Gryffindors.”

 

  “The hat considered it,” Rosie confessed.  “That or Hufflepuff.”

 

  “Hufflepuff?” Ginny snorted.  

 

  “Oh come on, it’s not that bad,” Rosie said with a laugh.  

 

  “Uh, Sure, if you say so,” Ginny replied.  They were silent for a moment, and decided to practice the levitation charm a couple more times.

 

  “Harry’s pretty amazing, isn’t he?” Ginny said, once her feather floated back down onto the desk.

 

  “Harry?  Yeah, he’s brilliant.”

 

  “He is, isn’t he?” Ginny said happily, before proceeding to list Harry’s numerous virtues.  The girl’s brown eyes were practically glowing, as she discussed one of her favourite topics.  Rosie looked over at the girl speculatively.  It seemed as though she had a pretty bad case of hero-worship.  Still, it made her happy that people thought positively of Harry.  All in all, the Weasleys (aside from Ron) seemed like a really likeable bunch.

 

The day before Halloween, Rosie received another letter from Remus.  While she was happy to receive it, her mood had been low in the past few days.  Halloween was far from being Rosie’s favourite holiday.  If anything, considering her history and Harry’s history, Halloween was seen as more of a period of sadness and remembrance.  After all, it was the day that their grandparents were killed, and also the day their parents went missing and were driven insane by torture.  When Harry and Rosie had still been living with Sirius, they usually made a trip out to St. Mungo’s to visit their parents.  The visits often left her feeling terribly conflicted.  On one hand, she wanted her parents to know that she loved them.  On the other hand, she dreaded seeing them, the way they were.  It was horrible - always horrible.  

 

It was with these melancholic thoughts in mind that Rosie opened Remus’s letter.

 

_ Dear Rosie, _

 

_ I imagine that this is a difficult time of month for you.  It is a very difficult time of month for me.  You asked why I don’t deserve your kindness.  Well, one of the reasons is what makes Halloween such a difficult time for both of us. _

 

_ The truth is, on the day after Halloween, in 1982, it was a full moon.  Sirius and I should have been at Grimmauld Place that night.  If we were, things may have been completely different.  As it was, I had wanted to run in the forest, and Sirius had agreed, and when we returned on November 2nd, we were greeted by an owl, informing us that something had gone wrong, and your parents were missing. _

 

_ If I had stayed at Grimmauld Place that night, if we hadn’t been running in the woods, then Sirius would have gotten the message sooner and we might have saved your parents.  It’s my fault that they are the way they are.  I can never forgive myself, and I do not deserve your kindness because I am the one who took away your parents. _

 

_ I am truly, deeply sorry Rosie. _

 

_ Remus Lupin _

 

Rosie’s feelings were a tumultuous mess as she looked over Remus’s letter.  She knew that he had feelings of guilt, but she did not realize that he blamed himself for what happened to her parents.  She felt a mix of pain, sadness and anger.  Forgetting about the food in front of her, she stood up from the Ravenclaw table, and quickly left the Great Hall.  Romulus and Luna watched her stalk off with bewilderment.  They had noticed that her mood had been dark in the past few days, but she had been unwilling to discuss anything with them.

 

Making her way back to her dorm room, Rosie took out a piece of parchment, and immediately began composing a letter, writing with her emotions more than she was writing with her mind.

 

_ Dear Remus,  _ she wrote, her quill flying over the page,

 

_ How could you?  How could you blame yourself for something you didn’t even do?  You weren’t the one who kidnaped my parents.  You weren’t the one who cast the cruciatus curse that drove them to madness.  _

 

_ How could you use such a flimsy excuse for leaving me and Harry and Sirius?  How could you just walk out of our lives?  We already lost so many people.  Why did we have to lose you too? _

 

_ It wasn’t fair.  It isn’t fair.  It isn’t fair for you to just decide to cut yourself off, just because you happened to feel guilty for something that someone else did.  You at least owed us an explanation.  How could you just disappear like that?  Don’t you think Sirius misses you?  And Harry?  And what about me? I didn’t even get a chance to know you. _

 

_ I don’t know if I can forgive you for doing this to us.  And I definitely  _ _ cannot  _ _  will not accept you running away again.  _

 

_ Come back into our lives. _

 

_ Rosie. _

 

She dusted and folded the letter, and just as she was about to dash off to the owlry, she met Luna and Romulus at the exit of the dorm room, looking at her with concern.

 

  “I’m going to the owlry,” she told them, her voice subdued.  They nodded, and silently followed along.

 

That night, Rosie had dreams about red eyes and a high sibilant laugh all around her.  She was in a dark, dark place, and all she could see was the checkered black and white floor beneath her.  She tried to move from her square, and found that she was immobilized.  She gazed into the darkness, and was surprised to see her family and friends, all of them on different squares - some on black squares, some on white.  There was Harry across from her.  She could also see Sirius, next to her. On her other side was Luna and a little further, Romulus.  Hermione and and Neville were behind her, and curiously, so was Professor Snape.  Across from her, a little behind Harry on his right side  was Toby, flanked by Samir and Christopher.  On Harry’s other side was Astrid and her friends.  

 

Disturbingly, further in the shadowy distance, she could see her parents, lying on their sides in the darkness, writhing and twitching.   A giant white hand with long pointed nails suddenly reached out from the darkness, and Rosie knelt down, cowering in fear.  However, the hand was not reaching for her - it was reaching for Harry, and placing him in the square in front of her.  Harry smiled blankly, and pulled out a curved dagger - no, wait - it looked more like an immense fang.  He twisted his body, ready to strike her.  Before he did, she woke, gasping and horrified.

 

As the sharp edge of the nightmare began to fade, Rosie realized that it was Hallowe’en and a small moan of dismay escaped her lips.   _ Mum….Dad… _ she thought.  She would need to call Sirius on the mirror later.  Of all days, Hallowe’en was a particularly important one to speak to him. 


	8. Chapter 8

Hallowe’en this year fell on a Saturday.  While she longed to see Sirius’s familiar face immediately, she knew better than to call him before noon.  She pushed herself up, and pulled aside the blue hangings on her bed.  Luna already seemed to be awake.  She was sitting on her bed, reading a book on Defense Against the Dark Arts.  It was a good idea - Professor Lockhart wasn’t exactly doing much more than telling stories about himself, so those who wanted to actually learn useful content had to teach themselves.

 

 “Nightmare?” Luna asked sympathetically.  Rosie nodded, and shuddered.

 

 “What do you think it meant?” Luna asked.  Rosie looked over at Luna.  It was curious, how Luna just seemed to  _ know _ things.  Rosie didn’t often question it, but at times, she felt like Luna saw more than anyone else did.  Curiously, Romulus could also be that way too.

 

  “Harry,” Rosie murmured.  “He’s been weird lately, but no one else seems to notice.  Sometimes, I wonder if it’s all in my head.”

 

  “Hmm.  He does like he’s in the grips of something, doesn’t he?” Luna replied placidly.

 

  “You noticed it too?”

 

  “It’s important to keep your eyes as open as your mind.  How else can you see anything otherwise?” Luna replied mysteriously, before returning to her textbook.

 

  “Do you want to go study down at the Library?” Rosie asked, after changing out of her pyjamas.  “Maybe Harry, Hermione and Neville are there.”  Rosie and Luna had studied with Harry and his friends a few times.  She could tell that Hermione and Neville didn’t quite know what to make of Luna, but at least they were polite.  Luna nodded, and the pair of them made their way down to the common room.  She noticed that Romulus was sitting in his usual chair by the window.  Rosie walked over to him.

 

  “Hi Rom.  Luna and I are going down to the library to work on our homework.  D’you wanna come?”  Romulus looked up at her, his eyes as unreadable as ever.

 

  “I’ve already finished all my homework,” he said.  “But-”  He paused and looked thoughtful.  Rosie waited patiently for his reply.

 

  “I should get a book on Potions.  I have an extra assignment that I need to do.” Romulus said.  Once the words slipped from his mouth, he suddenly wondered why he felt the need to reveal so much information. 

 

  “An extra assignment?” Rosie asked.

 

  “Professor Snape gave me one.  After making me brew the Girding potion..”  

 

  “That’s a third year potion!” Rosie exclaimed.  Romulus nodded.  Rosie and even Luna looked impressed.

 

As they headed down the spiral stairs, Rosie asked: “What’s your assignment?”

 

  “An essay on the Wit-Sharpening Potion, after which, I will have to brew it.”

 

  “You’re already starting on fourth year potions?” Rosie asked.  Romulus nodded.

 

The library was quite busy since it was the weekend.  Harry and his friends weren’t in sight, so Rosie and Luna found a table while Romulus wandered through the aisles, looking for his book.  There were a lot of Ravenclaws in the library that day, and they shot dirty looks at Luna and Rosie.  However, in the presence of Madam Pince, they did not dare to do anything overt, that would cause them to be kicked out of the library.  It was seen as a mark of shame in the Ravenclaw House to be hated by Madam Pince.  The students did their best to avoid such an ignominious fate.

 

In the afternoon, Rosie put all her homework and books in her bookbag, and decided to go looking for Harry.  Luna had already wandered off earlier (“I have to see if the orange marmalade I left out attracted any Birshmoops.”)  She wanted to call Sirius, but it felt wrong doing it without Harry.  Especially on Hallowe’en.  She wandered around, checking his usual haunts.  He wasn’t by the lake, or in the owlery.  He wasn’t in the Great Hall, or in any of the courtyards.  She asked a couple passing Gryffindors if they had seen Harry in their common room, but the shook their heads in negation.

 

With a disappointed sigh, Rosie found a quiet spot by a large window, and sat on the wide stone sill.  “Sirius,” she said into the square mirror.  Sirius’s welcome and familiar face appeared almost right away.

 

  “Hey, pup,” he said.  He seemed to be scanning her surroundings.  “Where’s Harry?”

 

  “Hi, Padfoot.  I - I couldn’t find him anywhere.”  Sirius looked disappointed, but he did his best to hide it.

 

  “How are you holding up, pup?”  

 

  “Hallowe’ens are always hard,” Rosie replied, pursing her lips.

 

  “I know.  They’re hard for me too.”  They were silent for a moment, lost in memories of the past.

 

  “How are you classes?” Sirius asked, breaking the silence.

 

  “Hm.  Well, we finally started the practical component in Charms.” Rosie smiled weakly.  “It’s a fun class.  There’s this Gryffindor girl there, Ginny, and I think she’s got a thing for Harry.”  Sirius chuckled with amusement.

 

  “She’s got a crush?”

 

  “Well, some sort of hero-worship-thing.”  Rosie spoke a little more about her classes, telling Sirius the things she was learning.  She also mentioned Luna and Toby, and how the issue still had not been resolved.

 

  “Why haven’t you pranked him yet?” Sirius asked.

 

  “Padfoot!  Be serious,” she laughed.  It always seemed ridiculous to tell Sirius to be serious.  “Not all problems can be solved with pranks.”

 

  “Not all - but a good number of them,” Sirius quipped.

 

  “If you say so-” Rosie shook her head and smiled.

 

  “So-” she started, and then paused.

 

  “What is it, pup?”  Rosie was silent for a moment as she gathered her thoughts.

 

  “Since - well - we aren’t seeing mum and dad over Hallowe’en, does that mean we’ll see them over Christmas this year?”  

 

Sirius’s expression was sudden solemn.  “Yeah, I think so pup.”  Rosie nodded.

 

  “They -  they shouldn’t be alone,” she choked out.  Sirius agreed, sympathetically.

 

  “Well, I suppose I should go.  I’ll see if I can find Harry again, and maybe give you a call later if I do.  Love you, Snuffles!”

 

  “Love you too, pup.”

 

Harry had described the Hallowe’en feast to Rosie, but seeing it for the first time still filled her with awe and amazement.  She had met up with Luna in the halls (after unsuccessfully searching for Harry for almost the entire afternoon).  They entered the large double doors together, and stared up in wonderment at the multitude of bats fluttering about, creating a roiling black mass in the ceiling.  The immense pumpkin lanterns gave off a spooky orange glow.  Scattered throughout the Hall were pumpkins and immense black cauldrons, full to the brim with all sorts of candy.  The tables and walls were decorated with orange streamers.  Rosie walked up to a cauldron and grabbed a couple lollipops shaped like skulls.  She handed one to Luna, who immediately popped it into her mouth.

 

  “Mm.  Apple,” she murmured.

 

They walked over to the Ravenclaw table, and sat next to Romulus.  The feast materialized in front of them, and the selection was just as impressive as the one at the Sorting Feast, though there was a decided Hallowe’en theme.  Rosie looked towards the Gryffindor table, and was alarmed to see that Harry, Hermione and Neville were absent.  Where could they possibly be?  At least they were together.  Rosie would have been much more concerned if it was only Harry who was gone.

 

Rosie ate her food quietly, tuning out the celebratory mood around her.  It was hard to celebrate, knowing the things that had happened on this day.  Instead, she kept an eye towards the front entrance, wondering when Harry and his friends would show up.  Near the end of the feast, Hermione and Neville finally walked through the doors towards the Gryffindor table.  Rosie kept looking towards the doors, but Harry did not follow behind them. 

 

Her internal alarm bells ringing, she left the Ravenclaw table and made her way to Hermione and Neville.

 

  “Hi Rosie,” Neville and Hermione said, when they saw her approaching them.

 

  “Hey,” she replied, barely able to hide her concern.  “You’re so late.  Where were you three?  Where’s Harry?” 

 

  “We were at Sir Nicholas’s deathday party, with the all the ghosts,” Hermione replied.  “It was -” she scrunched up her nose in distaste.

 

  “It was pretty bad,” Neville finished off.  “It was cold, gloomy and they were serving rancid food.”  Neville looked vaguely green as he described it.

 

  “Harry stayed behind,” Hermione added.  “He said he was enjoying himself.”  Hermione’s expression was rather incredulous as she said this.  It seemed odd, but at least she knew where Harry had gone.

 

  “Okay.  Thanks.  Well, enjoy the rest of the feast!” Rosie said to Hermione and Neville.  They grinned, and began digging into the food with gusto.

 

Rosie returned to the Ravenclaw table.  The main course had disappeared and dessert was starting to appear.  Everything seemed to be Hallowe’en themed: there were cupcakes decorated with little skeletons, bat-shaped jello, orange and black pudding, graveyard cake, candied apples, pumpkin cookies and all manner of other sweets.  Rosie took a cupcake, and then glanced over at Luna.

 

 “You stopped wearing your dirigible-plum earrings?” she asked, when she noticed that Luna’s earrings were gone.

 

 “Oh, I couldn’t find them.  I seem to have misplaced them,” Luna replied airily.  Across the table Edine and Sakiko snickered.  Rosie glared at them angrily, her appetite for dessert lost.

 

  “Come on, Luna.  Let’s go look for them,” Rosie said, trying to keep her irritation in check.  Luna grabbed a couple cookies and stood up to follow.

 

  “I’ll come with you,” Romulus said.  Rosie looked at him in surprise.  It didn’t seem like him to just offer to follow.  However, Romulus knew that between Rosie and Luna, they’d probably never find the earrings.  At least with his sharp nose, there was a chance.

 

The three of them left the Great Hall.  As they walked along the corridors, Rosie began to hear that hissing voice again.

 

  “ _ Hungry…. So hungry….must tear….must kill…. _ ”  It was that snake again!

 

  “Luna, Rom, I think there’s a snake trapped in the walls,” Rosie said.  “I heard it a couple of weeks ago.  Poor thing - if it hasn’t eaten yet, it must be ravenous.  Come on!”

 

She dashed up the stairs to the second floor, trying to follow the sound.  Romulus was uneasy - something smelled off.   Luna meanwhile seemed content to forget about her earrings and munched on her pumpkin cookies serenely, as she let Rosie lead the way.

 

  “Blood….” the voice hissed.  “I smell blood.”

 

  “Primrose,” Romulus said, grabbing Rosie’s arm before she could dash off.  “I smell blood.  I don’t think it’s a good idea to go up ahead.”  Rosie furrowed her brow, looking at Romulus, and then at the turn up ahead.  She felt conflicted and undecided.  If there was a snake in the castle, it would need help finding it’s way out.  On the other hand, she did not know how dangerous the snake was.  Some snakes had a tendency to act first and think later.

 

  “Let’s just take a peek.  If it’s dangerous, we’ll go back,” Rosie said.  Romulus frowned, but nodded.  Luna simply tilted her head, as though considering.

 

The three of them walked slowly towards the corner, and peeked their heads around.  They stared, wide-eyed when they saw the message, looking blackish-red and wet on the walls: ‘The chamber of secrets has been opened.  The heir has come again.’  

 

Underneath the message, there seemed to be a large puddle of water.  Rosie gasped when she noticed the body, looking stiff and awkward.  It was Duncan Inglebee!  One of the first year Ravenclaws!  Neither Rosie, Romulus nor Luna dared to edge any closer.

 

  “We have to get help!” Rosie exclaimed.  Romulus nodded, about to dash off, but down the hall, they could hear the patter of hundreds of footsteps, and the animated voices of the students.  It seemed that the feast had finished.  As the mass of students made their way along the corridor, they stopped when they saw the message on the wall.

 

 “The heir has come again!” a blond-haired boy exclaimed, sounded excited.

 

  “The heir has risen?” a female voice replied hopefully, sounding suspiciously like Astrid.  

 

However, the group of students soon noticed the stiff figure on the floor.  Several of the girls screamed when they saw Duncan Inglebee’s body.

 

  “He’s dead!” one of them shrieked.  This was enough to cause a panic, and all the students started pushing and shoving as they tried to escape the hallway.  The footsteps of the students trying to get away sounded thunderous, and Rosie could hear one of the teachers in the background, trying to gain control of the panicked mob.  However, the students were frantic until the voice of Professor Dumbledore cut through the crowd.

 

  “Stop!” he called out, his voice echoing through the halls, calm and commanding.  The students all seemed to freeze in place.  “Students!  Form into pairs and  _ walk _ calmly towards the entrance Hall.  No pushing now!  When you get to the entrance hall, your prefects will lead you to your rooms.”

 

The words, sounding so calm and so normal seemed to settle the students, and they meekly obeyed.  Rosie looked at Romulus and Luna, and the trio decided join the crowd.  Whatever was happening was far beyond their scope.

 

In the entrance hall, Rosie, Luna and Romulus met up with the other Ravenclaws.  Penny Clearwater, their prefect, did a headcount, and frowned when she realized one of the students was missing.  However, at that moment, Professor Flitwick signaled her aside, and Penny bent over while he whispered something in her ear.  Penny’s eyes widened, but she nodded and returned to the waiting Ravenclaws.

 

  “Come on then, Eagles.  Follow me,” she said, her voice subdued.  Sensing her troubled mood, the Ravenclaws followed silently.  However, Alec Perriss seemed particularly troubled.  He pushed his way past the older Ravenclaws and walked in step beside Rosie and her friends.

 

  “Have you guys seen Duncan?” he asked quietly, his expression obviously upset.  “He went to use the bathroom during the feast, and didn’t come back afterwards.”  Duncan and Alec were best friends.  Rosie looked at Romulus before looking back at Alec.

 

  “Duncan is -” Rosie frowned.  She didn’t know what Duncan was.  She hoped to Merlin that he wasn’t dead, but he whatever he was, it didn’t look good.

 

  “He’s being taken to the Hospital Wing,” Romulus finished off.  The blood drained from Alec’s face.

 

  “Is he all right?” Alec asked, frightened.

 

  “We’re not sure,” Rosie replied.  She felt shaken by what she had seen.  She remembered how Harry had told her there was a troll last year, and now there was this?  Was Hogwarts even safe?

 

When the Ravenclaws were back in their Nest, word had quickly gotten around that something had happened to one of their first years.  The rumours were flying thick and fast, growing ever more exaggerated.  Eventually, Penny had to clear up the situation by explain that no, Duncan had not been murdered by Death Eaters.  He was alive - just petrified.  This seemed to be a relief to the students.  It was still disturbing that he was petrified, but at least he wasn’t dead.

 

Of course, this did not quell the discussion at all.  Now it was turning into an intellectual debate about what could have petrified one of the Ravenclaws.  There was also extensive discussion about where the Chamber of Secrets could be located.  As for Toby Woodbridge, he felt extremely fascinated by the turn of events.  His intelligence was both a blessing and a curse - he found that he got bored particularly easily, and these recent events had captured his interest.  He hadn’t had this much fun in ages, but of course, he schooled his face to look properly upset, just like the rest of the students.  To the rest of the Ravenclaws, the situation was a mystery that they were determined to get to the bottom of.

 

The whole thing was far too much for Rosie to bear.  Hallowe’en was a difficult enough day as it was.  She hadn’t even caught sight of Harry at all!  What if something had happened to him?  Could he have been petrified too?  Yet, she could still feel him through the link, and there was no sense of distress, so she had to assume that he was alive and well.  Feeling emotionally drained, she trudged up the steps to her dorm, and threw herself on her bed, ready for the day to be over.

 

The following day was a Sunday, and Rosie had only one goal: Find Harry.  She asked Luna if she wanted to come along, but Luna declined, claiming that she had a brilliant idea for a new project, and needed to gather the materials for it.  Romulus wasn’t in the common room, but even if he had been, he likely wouldn’t have had any interest in finding Harry.  She had tried introducing Romulus to Harry and his friends once before, but Romulus seemed determine to be as silent as a stone that day, and it had turned out to be an extremely awkward introduction.  

 

Considering how difficult Harry had been to find yesterday, she was expecting the same today.  Thus, when she made her way to the Great Hall for breakfast, she was surprised to see Harry there with Hermione and Neville, sitting at the Gryffindor table.  He waved at her, with his familiar smile on his lips.  Feeling stunned, Rosie froze for a moment, before walking over to the table on shaky legs.  Was this a dream?  She was so used to Harry being weird and distant that his warm smile was almost unreal.

 

  “Harry?”  she said, while Hermione and Neville greeted her. 

 

  “Rosie?” Harry replied with a light jesting tone that echoed her intonation.  “You’re being weird.  Come, sit.”  He scooted over and made a space for her at the Gryffindor table between him and Neville.

 

  “What’s with that look, Rosie?” Harry inquired, scanning Rosie’s face.  “You’re acting like you’ve just seen a ghost - and not a Hogwarts ghost.”

 

  “You’re - That is - You -”

 

  “Yes, the last time I checked, I am me,” Harry’s eyes twinkled with amusement.  “Are you sure you’re awake yet?  Here, have some orange juice.”  Harry poured her a glass and handed it to Rosie, who took it, still feeling completely confused.  She tried accessing her emotional link, but her thoughts were too ruffled, and she didn’t know what to think.  Instead, she just looked at the glass of juice in her hands, and then sipped it, peeking glances at Harry.

 

Harry had turned away and was chatting animatedly with Hermione about one of their assignments, with Neville throwing in a few words here and there.  As she quietly observed him, she was finally able to gather herself.  Blanking out her mind as much as possible, she felt for Harry.  His mood seemed to reflect what he was displaying: interest, amusement, relaxation.  There was barely any anxiety.  And yet - that dark shadow.  It was still sitting there.  It seemed ‘quiet’ if that was the right word for it, but it was still there.  She frowned.

 

  “What’s with that look Rosie?” Harry asked, interrupting her thoughts.  “Here, have some toast.” He grabbed the slice of bread, as well as the pot of honey.  He knew she loved honey on her toast.  She took the food, and set it on the plate in front of her, spreading the creamed honey on the bread.

 

She took a bite of the bread and then peered at her brother, who seemed to be watching her intently.  “Harry, where were you yesterday?”

 

  “Yesterday?  I was feeling a tad under the weather, so I was in my room most of the day.  Then I went to Sir Nicholas’s deathday feast.  It was great!”

 

Hermione and Neville were looking at Harry with expressions of disbelief. 

 

  “Were you there all night, Harry?” Hermione asked.  “I didn’t see you after Neville and I left to go to the feast.”

 

  “Well, I stayed to watch the dancing, and then there was some party games after.  You should have see this one ghost, Lady DuClairemont, dancing.  She’s almost as fat as the fat lady, but she has this way of moving like a hummingbird.” Harry laughed at the memory.  “She spent most of the time trying to get the Bloody Baron’s attention, but he was having none of it.”

 

Hermione and Neville shared a glance.  Rosie was just observing Harry, almost as if she were waiting for something ‘wrong’ to happen.

 

  “Why are you guys looking at me like that?” Harry asked.  “It was fun.”  He shrugged his shoulders, and then popped a piece of bacon into his mouth.

 

They focused on eating their food for a while, but once Rosie finished her toast, she turned towards Harry.

 

  “So - things have been better for you Harry?” she asked hesitantly.  “You were really - anxious - at the beginning of the year.”  Her expression was concerned as she watched her brother’s face.

 

  “Yeah,” Harry gave a quick rueful smile. “I guess I was stressed and still adjusting.  But once I got better at potions, it was like most of my problems just melted away.  But thanks for asking.”  He leaned over and nudged his shoulder against hers affectionately.  It had been so long that Rosie had experienced any of Harry’s casual affection that her heart skipped happily.  She was still convinced that something about Harry was ‘off’ but she was nonetheless relieved to have her Harry back.

 

  “Do you want to give Sirius a call later?” she asked him.  “He was - kind of disappointed to not hear from you yesterday.” 

 

Harry bit his lip. “I feel terrible about that,” he confessed.  “I really should apologize.  How about we meet at that staircase going up to the owlery this afternoon?  It’s a bit too chilly to go outside.”

 

  “Okay,” Rosie agreed happily.  She took another piece of toast, and spread it with a thick layer of honey, feeling surprisingly light of heart.  Whatever that dark shadow was, she would deal with it another day.

 

She spent the late morning doing her homework in the library.  When it came time to meet Harry, she packed her bags and headed towards the owlery.  However, on her way there, Romulus seemed to materialize out in the halls.  He moved so silently, that she had gotten used to it, but it still always impressed her.

 

  “Hi Rom,” she said happily.

 

  “Primrose.” He held out his hand.  “I found these.” He dropped the items in her palms.  It was Luna’s dirigible plum earrings!

 

  “Where did you find these?” she exclaimed with delight.  He only shrugged in reply. 

 

  “Thank you, Rom!  Luna’s going to be so happy!”  The day just seemed to get better and better.

 

  “Primrose - did you say something to Remus?  He sounded kind of weird in the letter he just sent me.”

 

  “Erm - well,” Rosie blushed.  “I think the last letter I sent him was kind of - emotional.”  Romulus’s blue eyes seemed to bore into her, but then he shrugged, inclined his head goodbye, and wandered off.

 

Harry was waiting for her at the base of the staircase where they had planned to meet.  He was leaning against the wall, but his posture was relaxed.  He looked - peaceful.  It was strange seeing Harry peaceful.  He only ever seemed at peace at Grimmauld Place when it was just her and Sirius.  When he spotted her, his eyes crinkled happily.  She couldn’t help but respond with a wide smile.

 

They found a quiet corner, and Rosie pulled out the mirror.  “Sirius,” she called into it.  A few minutes later, Sirius’s face appeared.

 

  “Pups!” he exclaimed.  “Harry!”

 

  “Hi Padfoot,” Harry said, smiling affectionately.

 

  “Are you okay, pup?” Sirius asked.  “It seems like forever since we’ve talked - you know you can always talk to me if you need anything, right?”  Sirius’s face was concerned, and his eyes seemed to search Harry’s features, as though looking for something wrong.

 

  “I’m sorry,” Harry said contritely.  “It’s been stressful lately, but I’m better now.  I didn’t mean to worry you.  And I should have called you yesterday.  Forgive me?”  Harry was wearing his puppy dog face, biting lightly down on his lower lip, which of course was irresistibly heart-melting.

 

 “Aww, pup, not that face.  I forgive you!  Stop looking at me like that!”  Rosie and Harry laughed.

 

 “You’re sure everything’s alright?” Sirius asked again.  Harry nodded.

 

  “There’s been rumours flying around-” Sirius started, looking hesitant.  “A lot of students sent owls to their parents saying that a student has been killed?  The  _ Daily Prophet  _ doesn’t send papers on Sunday, but there’s talk of a big conspiracy at Hogwarts.  What’s going on pups?”

 

Harry and Rosie shared a look.

 

  “Well, I was with the ghosts, so I didn’t really catch wind of anything until today,” Harry confessed.

 

  “I was there.” Rosie said, her voice low and troubled.  Harry and Sirius looked at her, startled.

 

  “You were there?” they said, almost simultaneously.  Rosie nodded.

 

  “It was - terrible.” she said the last word so softly that they could barely hear her.

 

  “What happened, pup?” Sirius asked gently.

 

  “I - I was with Luna and Rom.  We were looking for Luna’s earrings, but then I heard a snake in the walls.”

 

  “A snake?” Harry was looking at her oddly.

 

  “Yeah, I thought maybe a snake from the Forbidden Forest had accidentally made it’s way into the school.  The poor creature sounded so hungry.  So I followed the sound.  We - Well, Rom said he smelled blood, so we peeked around the corner, and there was this message written on the wall, and - and this body underneath.  I thought - I was scared that the person might be dead.” Rosie shuddered at the memory.

 

  “He wasn’t dead then?” Sirius asked.

 

  “No, it turns out he was just petrified.”

 

  “What was written on the wall?” Harry asked.

 

  “Erm - I think it said ‘the chamber of secrets has been opened.  The heir has returned’ or something like that.”

 

  “The heir?” Sirius asked, suddenly pale.

 

  “That probably wasn’t it exactly, but yeah, it said something about the heir.”

 

  “That sound really dangerous,” Sirius said darkly.  “Do you two pups want to come home?”

 

Rosie looked over at Harry who met her gaze.  They looked back at Sirius.

 

  “I think we’ll stay,” Harry said.  If it were dangerous, they’d close the school, wouldn’t they?”

 

  “Listen pups - part of those rumours I told you about?  There’s talk that a lot of powerful people want Dumbledore gone.  Something like this sound like the opportunity they need.  I don’t want to worry you pups, but -”  

 

Rosie nodded.  “Yeah, it’s good to know.  Thanks for telling us Padfoot.”

 

Monday came around, and as the owls flew into the Great Hall, carrying letters, packages and newspapers, Sirius’s words proved to be correct.  The headline of the  _ Daily Prophet  _ read: PETRIFICATION AT HOGWARTS: ARE OUR CHILDREN SAFE?  The article seemed to set the entire Great Hall abuzz with conversation.  It implied numerous inflammatory things towards Professor Dumbledore (without saying anything directly of course.  Dumbledore was still too powerful to cross.)  And of course, there were calls to have a full investigation at Hogwarts, claiming that worried parents were up in arms, demanding the Board of Governors take action.  The student body seemed fairly divided.  The discovery of Duncan Inglebee’s body had been so dramatic and disturbing that even now, several of the students were nervous and jumpy with fear.  One of the students even went home, unable to endure the stress.

 

However, things were slightly different in the Ravenclaw house - while they were dismayed that it was one of their own that had been petrified, the Ravenclaws were more intrigued by solving the mystery.  Even Rosie found herself just as curious about the Chamber of Secrets and the Heir as the rest of the Ravenclaws.  The the whole situation almost had the feeling of a competition, where each Ravenclaw wanted to be the one to unravel the mystery.  Many of the Ravenclaws were eagerly seeking out books, trying to find that one tidbit of information that they could hold over everyone else.  

 

Toby, however, seemed to act curiously unengaged about the situation.  It wasn’t that he did not know what was happening - Rosie suspected that he somehow knew more than most - it was just that he acted as though it wasn’t of great interest.  Perhaps it should have reassured her, but somehow it made her feel worse.  Sometimes, he simply didn’t seem very  _ human _ .  Why did Samir and Christopher even follow him?  They were both handsome boys, and popular in their own right.  It didn’t make sense.

 

As for Rosie, she thought: who better to ask than the Slytherins?  On Monday, the only class she had with the Slytherins was History of Magic.  It would be the perfect time to ask.  Professor Binns often seemed to be completely indifferent to what any of the students ever did.  After a rather painfully awkward class of Defense in the morning, in which she had to listen to Professor Lockhart talk about himself (“You may be thinking, what harm can doxies really do.  Well, let me tell you about the time when I faced a swarm of doxies so thick they could have blotted out the sky!  By the time I was through with them, they were purring like kittens.”  “Um - yes, but Professor, what did you actually  _ do _ ?”  “Er - open your textbooks to page 83.  My methods are so unorthodox that ordinary wizards could never expect to succeed.”)

 

In History of Magic, Rosie made sure to sit close to the dark-brown haired  Luthais Selwyn and Mathilda Travers.  Mathilda Travers was more plain than pretty, but she carried herself with a regal grace.  Astrid shot her a cold glare, but made no comment.  While Astrid had no fondness for Rosie, she preferred to direct most of her ire to “mudblood filth, and blood-traitors.”  Since Rosie had never openly spoken her views about pureblood supremacy, Astrid tended to just brush her off.

 

Luthais glanced at Rosie through knowing grey eyes.  He had very regal pureblood features, and knew how to use them to the best result.  “I think I can guess why you’ve chosen to sit next to me today instead next to Loony.”  Rosie was shocked to hear Luna referred by that name outside of Ravenclaw.  Had it really spread so far?

 

  “Her name is Luna,” Rosie hissed angrily.  Luthais raised his eyebrow, and then shrugged.

 

  “Everyone is calling her that.”

 

  “Luthais, be a gentleman,” Mathilda scolded.  “Sorry, Primrose.  Luthais is right though - I don’t know how it started, but everyone has been calling her - by that name.”  Rosie frowned unhappily.

 

  “Well, just because everyone is doing it, it doesn’t mean you have to follow,” Rosie retorted.

 

  “Fine.  I’m sorry,” said Luthais, his arms crossed, a slight pout on his lips.  He looked every bit his eleven years at that moment.  Rosie sighed, and Mathilda smirked.

 

  “So why have you chosen to grace us with your presence today?” Mathilda asked quietly, while Professor Binns droned on in the background.

 

  “I wanted to ask you two what you knew about the Chamber of Secrets and the Heir.”  Luthais’s lip quirked at the corners.

 

  “I knew it,” he said, relaxing and unfolding his arms.  “Primrose, if you only ever keep us company when you want something, we’re going to start thinking that you’re using us.”

 

  “I’m not using you!” Primrose exclaimed (quietly) her ears pinkening.  

 

 “Oh shush, Luthais!  He’s just teasing,” Mathilda told her.  “Though you should remember, you are dealing with Slytherins.  What are you offering in exchange for the information?”

 

  “Exchange?  What do you want?”  Luthais and Mathilda shared a glance before looking back at Rosie.

 

  “We could just say that you’ll owe us a favour,” Mathilda said.  Rosie considered the idea.

 

  “Alright.  So what do you know?” 

 

  “Well, you know about the history of Hogwarts right?  How Salazar Slytherin had a falling out with all the other founders of the school?”  Luthais paused.

 

Rosie nodded.  This knowledge was fairly well known in the wizarding world.

 

  “And do you know what the disagreement was about?” Luthais asked.

 

  “Salazar didn’t want to accept Muggle-borns into the school.  I read a biography of him in the Black Family library.  And it mentioned that he created the Chamber of Secrets to purify the school of the elements that he deemed as unsavoury.  Supposedly, he hid a monster in the chamber, but I couldn’t discover what the monster was supposed to be.  The book also said that Salazar’s True Heir could open the Chamber.  But - where is the chamber?  And who is the Heir?  Is the part about the monster true?”

 

Luthais and Mathilda shared a look and frowned before Mathilda spoke.  “We don’t know where the Chamber of Secrets is.  None of us do.  Believe me, there are some people-”

 

  “Like Draco,” Luthais cut in.

 

  “Yes, there are people, Like Draco Malfoy who desperately want to know.  We don’t know who the heir is either, or whether the monster actually exists,” Mathilda said.

 

  “Almost all of us have gotten letters from our parents, wanting more information,” Mathilda continued. “They-”  She frowned.

 

  “What?” Rosie asked.

 

  “They want us to find out who the heir is, and support him,” Luthais finished darkly.  This piece of information startled Rosie, though she knew that it shouldn’t.  So many of the Slytherins were related to Death Eaters - of course they would want to know all about the heir.

 

  “There are some who are ecstatic about the whole situation,” Mathilda said, her voice even more quiet.  “Like her and her friends.” Mathila flicked a glance at Astrid.

 

  “And Draco, and most of his friends,” Luthais added.  “With the older Slytherins - well, they tend to keep their cards close, so it’s difficult to say.”  Rosie contemplated their words.  It certainly gave her a lot to think about.  It seemed as though the Slytherins knew as little as the rest of the school.

 

 “Thanks,” Rosie murmured.

 

 “No need to thank us,” Mathilda purred.  “We look forward to calling in that favour.”  Both Luthais and Mathilda gave her a smile that was almost predatory, and Rosie laughed nervously.

 

Later that week at breakfast, an owl flew over Rosie and dropped a letter in her hands.  It was from Remus.  Rosie wasn’t certain that she wanted to open this letter over the breakfast table.  She had been so emotional when she wrote her letter that she had acted first and then thought later.  She pursed her lips as she looked over the letter, and then slipped it into her schoolbag.  She would deal with it later.  Romulus was looking at her rather curiously, but he didn’t comment.

 

Her first class that day was Transfigurations.  Having read extensively on Animagi, and considering trying it for herself, she paid particular care and attention in that class, and asked many questions.  From what she understood, if she started the process of learning how to become an animagus now, it would be possible for her to successfully transform by the time she was thirteen or fourteen.  It would be a two to three year endeavour, but the idea strongly attracted her.  Perhaps it was in part because it felt like it would be a link between her and her father, as well as Sirius.

 

  “Professor,” Rosie asked, when there was a pause in the lecture, “What factor is most likely to cause a transfiguration to go awry?  Is concentration of equal importance to wand power?”

 

  “A good question,” Professor McGonagall replied. “And you are correct to note that the variables that can affect a successful Transfiguration are not of equal weight.  Consider the difference between Transfiguration and Charms.  What are the important factors in Charms?  Anyone?  Yes, Mr. Killick?”

 

  “Wand movement, intonation and intent,” Liam Killick, the Gryffindor boy responded.

 

  “Very good Mr. Killick.  Of these factors, which is the most important?  Miss Potter?”

 

  “Intent,” Rosie replied.  “Because it is possible to do magic nonverbally, and it is also possible to do magic wandlessly.”

 

  “Just so, Miss Potter.  Yes, of all the factors, intent is the most important.  And in Transfiguration, intent is split into two aspects: viciousness and concentration.  These two factors are bound together rather tightly, and their output needs to be very precise. Of all the factors, as you know, weight or mass is the most easily determined, and yet the mass of the object you intend to Transfigure affects all the other factors with mathematical exactness.  In fact, this proportionality is part of what makes the Animagus transformation so dangerous.  If your bodyweight fluctuates greatly when you are are attempting to undergo the training to become an animagus, and you do not factor this into your process, the transformation can go horribly wrong.”

 

Rosie listened to the rest of the lecture with rapt fascination, taking detailed notes.  Professor McGonagall never exactly described what happened when an animagus transformation went ‘horribly wrong’ but Rosie hoped never to find out.  The class was assigned to write twelve inches of parchment on the factor of mass in the process of transfiguration.

 

Her second class of the day was Herbology.  While it was interesting to learn, she did not share Neville’s passion for the subject.  However, Romulus seemed to excel in Herbology.  When she had asked him about it one day, he said it was important because the topic was so interrelated with potions.

 

As Rosie was tickling the stem of Quivering Cambrica (which wiggled rather vigorously, it’s purple flowers swinging like bells - Professor Sprout had said this helped to loosen the pollen), her empathic link to Harry suddenly seemed to black out.  It was the fourth or fifth time already this week, and while she wanted to pretend it was nothing, especially since Harry seemed so cheery and warm, it worried her.  It had only started happening since the day after Hallowe’en, and combined with Harry’s sudden change in personality, it set off alarm bells in her head.

 

The feeling of the link blacking out wasn’t painful or jarring, and it didn’t quite seem the same as the feeling of the link when Harry was asleep.  It was as though the shadowy blackness suddenly became extremely vast, and blocked out her sense of Harry entirely.  Every time it happened, she longed to run to Harry immediately, to see if he was okay.  

 

The first time it happened, she had been sitting in her dorm, and her thought was ‘something terrible has happened to Harry.  I need to get to him  _ now _ !’  However, the feeling vanished mere minutes afterwards, and the shadowy blackness subsided into it’s small little corner in her mental link.  Nonetheless, she had still gone to Harry that day, and had asked him what happened.  However, Harry had been completely bewildered.  He had no idea what she was talking about.

 

The second time it happened, the feeling lasted for over an hour.  She had been in class, and when she felt the black out, her concentration was destroyed.  And once again, when she sought Harry out, he seemed to have no sense that anything was different.  The next couple of times it happened after that, her sense of panic had subsided.  She tried to observe the blackness - to probe it, and discover what it was, but it was as unsubstantial as a the essence of darkness itself.  She tried to see if there was a pattern to the black outs, but they always seemed to happen at random moments.

 

She hated to feel so helpless in the matter, but there was little that she could do about it.  Earlier in the year, when Harry had first started acting strange, she had read every book in the library that she could find that related to mental or empathic links.  While there were several books on legilimency, there was almost nothing on empathic links (except a footnote, saying that the ability was rare.  The footnote had also mentioned that there were theories that babies were born with empathic links, but part of growing up meant that the link eventually vanished, once babies started vocalizations.)  If there were any answers out there, they would require extensive search of Hogwarts Library.  That or they wouldn’t be found at Hogwarts at all

 

Her thoughts kept her so occupied that when Herbology class ended, she was completely startled.  Since she had a long break in the afternoon after Herbology, Rosie headed up to her dormitory room, and climbed on her bed.  Remus’s letter would be a good way to distract her from her worries about Harry, and she pulled it out of her bookbag.  She pulled the bed hangings closed one one side to provide her privacy (even though Sakiko and Edine were down in the common room).  Luna seemed to be working on a new personal project, and as far as Rosie could tell, it was a hat that involved a whole bunch of white, and orangey white feathers.  Luna would tell in her own time, so Rosie let her friend work in peace, humming quietly to herself.

 

Rosie broke the seal on Remus’s letter and opened it, her heart racing with nervousness.

 

_ Dear Rosie, _

 

_ I’ve given your letter a lot of thought.  I’ve written so many responses, trying to think of the right words to say, only to toss them out. _

 

_ It feels strange, and also humbling to be lectured by an eleven year old, but the truth is, you’re right.  My impulses told me to run, and instead of questioning them, and being rational, I allowed my fear to rule me. _

 

_ I deeply regret not having been there for you and Harry.  I regret not having the chance to watch you both grow up. _

 

_ If you’ll give me the chance, I would like to make it up to you. _

 

_ Sincerely _

 

_ Remus Lupin _

 

_ PS - What is Sirius doing these days?  Did he ever settle down? _

 

Rosie found herself smiling.  She had feared that she may have pushed too far with her last letter and driven Remus away.  It was a relief to know that he still wanted to communicate with her.  Eagerly, she wrote out her next letter.


	9. Chapter 9

 

The following day, Rosie was in the library with Harry, Hermione and Neville.  Luna had been studying with them earlier, but had departed to do whatever mysterious thing she needed to do on a Thursday afternoon.  Rosie had finished off most of her assignments, so she had grabbed a book on magical babies.  It was hard to find any books related to babies that didn’t relate to their care, but babies were the only lead she had in terms of understanding empathic links.

 

As she scanned over the chapters on baby magic (which focused largely on accidental magic), she kept half an ear on Harry, Hermione and Neville’s soft but earnest discussion.

 

  “What do you think of what Professor Binns was saying?” Hermione asked Harry and Neville.

 

  “About how the Chamber of Secrets and the Monster aren’t real?” Neville asked.

 

  “Yeah.”

 

  “I don’t know what to think.  Binns did say that Dumbledore never found it, and he’s the most powerful wizard there is,” Neville replied thoughtfully.

 

  “Well, something hurt Inglebee.  It’s not like we can deny that,” Harry said, a frown marring his features.

 

  “And Dean did bring up a valid point in class,” Hermione added.  “It could very well be that only a Slytherin can open the Chamber.”

 

  “So do you think it’s the Slytherin’s?” Neville asked.

 

  “It isn’t the Slytherins,” Rosie cut in.  Harry, Hermione and Neville all turned their heads to look at her, a questioning expression on their faces.

 

  “I spoke to some of the Slytherins in my class.  They told me that none of them know where the Chamber of Secrets is.  They don’t even know who the Heir is,” Rosie explained.

 

Hermione frowned.  “And you believe them?” she asked.

 

  “Of course!  What would they gain by lying?  If the Slytherins knew where the Chamber of Secrets was, don’t you think they’d have used it?” 

 

Harry, Hermione and Neville considered her words.  However, Hermione’s expression remained doubtful.

 

  “There could be a reason that they’re hiding it that we just don’t know about,” Hermione pointed out.

 

  “Yeah, Malfoy was acting pretty suspiciously happy about the whole thing,” Neville added.  

 

  “He’s been positively gleeful,” Harry said, rolling his eyes.  “It’s painful to watch.”

 

  “He must know something!” Hermione asserted. 

 

  “Well, if you think he knows something, then what do you plan to do?” Rosie asked.  Hermione and Harry shared a glance.

 

  “Polyjuice potion,” said Hermione.

 

  “What?  That’s a sixth year potion!” Rosie exclaimed.  Hermione’s expression was almost smug.

 

  “Harry and I are working on it together,” Hermione explained.

 

Neville looked vaguely guilty.  “I wish I could help, but you know me - I’m hopeless with potions”

 

  “Oh Neville,” said Hermione. “Don’t worry about it.  Your part is still important.”

 

  “Who are you planning to change into?” Rosie asked, curious.

 

  “Crabbe and Goyle,” Harry told her, referring to Draco’s two cronies.

 

  “And Millicent Bulstrode,” Hermione added.  Rosie looked at the three of them, unsure of whether she thought they were crazy, or whether she admired them.

 

  “I thought you didn’t believe in breaking the rules,” Rosie said to Hermione.  Hermione looked rather abashed.

 

  “People are getting hurt.  This is important,” Hermione replied, stubbornly.

 

  “Yeah, we can’t just sit around!” Neville exclaimed.  “That would be wrong.”  Harry nodded in agreement.

 

  “Well, good luck then.  Let me know what you find out,” Rosie said.  

 

The first Quidditch match of the season was at the end of the first week of November.  The game was between the Gryffindors and the Slytherins, and of course, Rosie had to go to support her brother.  Luna decided to join her.  However, Rosie hadn’t caught sight of Romulus at all that day.  Like Rosie, Luna had come to support the Gryffindors, though she had expressed disappointment that her Lion-hat was nowhere near finished.  (“Do you think they’d understand if I wore the Raven-hat instead?”)  Rather than sitting with the Ravenclaws, the pair of them joined the crowd of Gryffindors, dressed in scarlet and gold, and climbed up the steps to the viewing stands.  

 

Because Sirius (as well as her parents) had been Gryffindors, Rosie happened to have a red and gold scarf of her own, and she wore this in support of her brother.  Luna lacked any articles of clothing that had both red and gold, so she opted to wear a plaid coat of magenta and sunflower-yellow.  This she paired with a skirt that had a pattern of a crimson covered with blue pori-pori-berries, and warm mustard yellow tights.  Luna attracted quite a few glances from the bewildered Gryffindors.

 

Rosie and Luna sat next to Hermione and Neville, who had also come to support Harry.  Even Seamus and his friends had put aside their feelings of animosity towards Harry to come and watch the big game.

 

When Rosie saw Harry and his team coming out onto the pitch, she cheered as loudly as the rest of the Gryffindors.  From the stands across the pitch, she could hear the Slytherin’s booing and hissing.  Though she wasn’t a passionate fan of Quidditch, she found herself getting caught up in the exuberant mood of the crowd. 

 

It had been overcast all morning, and as the game progressed, fat raindrops started to fall from the sky.  The Slytherins were leading the game, and their plays were tight and aggressive.  She vaguely remembered hearing that the entire Slytherin team had been given new brooms, and the advantage seemed to be working for them.  They zoomed across the length of the pitch at incredible speeds, making sharp turns and quick plays.

 

As for Harry, he had been flying above the Quidditch pitch, keeping his eye out for the golden snitch.  The Slytherin seeker, Draco Malfoy hoovered a short distance from Harry, also scanning the area for the snitch.  It amazed Rosie that either of them could even see anything through the rain.  The margin between the Slytherins and the Gryffindors was growing steadily wider, with the Slytherins in the lead.  Suddenly, Harry’s posture became alert.  He bent low on his broom and began to fly at top speed in pursuit of the snitch.  The Slytherin seeker, Draco, had spotted it only a second later, and the pair of them were almost neck to neck in pursuit of the small golden ball.  Watching the play was exciting enough, but through her emotional link, she could feel the adrenaline coursing through Harry, and it almost felt like she was chasing the snitch herself.  She found herself thinking: ‘it’s so close - so close!’

 

The crowds, both Slytherin and Gryffindor were yelling and cheering wildly.  Most of them were standing, including Rosie, whose hands were balled up into fists as her eyes followed Harry, hoping, and hoping that he would be the one to catch the snitch.

 

The seekers were swerving and turning to match the zig-zagging flight of the snitch, as the Slytherins scored yet another goal.  Harry’s hands were stretched in front of him, reaching as far as he could, and the audience watched with rapt attention.  At the precise moment when it looked like Harry had closed his hands around something, the Slytherin beater, Peregrine Derrick swung his bat with all his might, aiming the bludger straight for Harry.  The bludger flew at him at a terrible speed, and Rosie almost thought she heard a crack as the bludger smashed into his reaching arm.  Her heart felt as though it had stopped, and through the link, she felt both Harry’s exuberance for having caught the snitch, as well as the emotional shock and pain of his bone breaking.  Harry!  She had to go to him!

 

Pushing past the crowd of students, she dashed down wooden steps of the Gryffindor stands and ran towards the Quidditch pitch.  She could hear the announcer calling out the results of the game, but the words were a fuzzy blur.  All she could think about was Harry.

 

She had almost reached Harry, who was looking dazed and cradling his arm, while his teammates hooted and cheered around him.  However, before she could get to him, Professor Lockhart was rushing up to him first.

 

  “Broke your arm, eh, Harry?  Nasty hit, that.  Worry not!  This’ll be an easy fix!” Lockhart was declaring, as he pulled out his wand with a dramatic motion that caused his turquoise robes to billow.

 

  “Noo!!” Rosie cried, as she threw herself in front of Harry, shielding him with her body.  Lockhart paused, bewildered.

 

  “Now, now, Primrose,” Lockhart was saying reassuringly, “It’s a simple charm.  You don’t want your brother to suffer longer than he needs to, do you?”

 

  “I - I -” Rosie was in too much of an emotional panic.  She couldn’t think of an excuse to ward Professor Lockhart off.  All she knew was that she didn’t want the man directing any of his spells at her brother.

 

Suddenly Professor Snape seemed to materialize behind Professor Lockhart.  He had been watching the game of course, since he had to support his Slytherins, and though he had no particular interest in the fate of Harry, he had seen Rosie’s panicked face as she ran towards her brother.

 

  “Gilderoy,” Professor Snape said silkily.

 

  “Ah, Severus!  I’m trying to help Harry here, but his sister seems to be distraught.  The girl has lost her wits!”  Lockhart’s expression was genuinely bewildered.

 

  “She must be overwhelmed by your - presence,” Snape drawled.

 

Lockhart brightened.  “Oh!  Of course!  Naturally!  I do tend to have that effect on the ladies,” he said, beaming happily.

 

  “I’m afraid you’ll have to leave,” Snape said.  “It seems the effect you are having on her is - too much to bear.”

 

  “Of course, of course!  I don’t want to go breaking more hearts than I need to!”  Disturbingly, Professor Lockhart winked at Rosie before wandering off with a spring in his step.

 

Rosie watched him leave, and then looked up at Professor Snape, her body finally relaxing.

 

  “Thank you,” she said gratefully.  The Professor inclined his head in acknowledgement before departing.

 

Soon after, Neville, Hermione and Luna had joined them on the ground, and together, they walked Harry to the Hospital wing.

 

Madam Pomfrey, the matron of the hospital wing tutted when she saw Harry’s arm.

 

  “Something always happens on the first Quidditch game of the season,” she sighed.  She led Harry to a hospital bed, urging him to sit.  Rosie, Harry and his friends were disturbed to see Duncan Inglebee’s frozen body on one of the hospital beds, partially shielded by privacy curtains.

 

  “This’ll just take a second!” Madam Pomfrey told Harry, as she drew out her wand.  “Don’t crowd around.”  Rosie, Luna, Hermione and Neville backed away from the bed while Harry nodded, his eyes fixed on his oddly-bend arm.   

 

  “ _Brackium Emendo!”_ Madam Pomfrey enunciated with a wave her of wand. Rosie watched with fascination.  Growing up, neither her nor Harry and really suffered any major injuries (unless you counted Harry’s scar).  She had gotten sick before, of course, and had to take potions, but this was her first time watching a healing spell in action.  The break in Harry’s arm quickly began to mend before their eyes.

 

  “That’s amazing!” Rosie exclaimed.  Madam Pomfrey looked down at Rosie and smiled.

 

  “You’re all good now,” Madam Pomfrey informed Harry, shooing him and his friends off.  “Just don’t do any heavy lifting with that arm for a few hours.”

 

  “How did you learn to do that, Madam Pomfrey?  Do they offer a class at Hogwarts for healing?” Rosie asked the matron.  

 

  “Well dear, I’m afraid they don’t offer classes here at Hogwarts,” Madam Pomfrey said apologetically.  “But I do occasionally take on apprentices, if a student expresses an interest.”

 

  “Would you be willing to teach me?” Rosie asked, her eyes shining hopefully.  Madam Pomfrey smiled warmly.

 

 “The wizarding world always needs more healers.  Why don’t you come by this evening at about 8o’clock.  I can give you some books to read.  If, after reading them, you find that you still have an interest, then we can consider your education.”

 

  “Thank you!” Rosie exclaimed.  Madam Pomfrey waved her off.

 

  Luna, Harry and Harry’s friends had been waiting by the entrance of the Hospital wing for Rosie.

 

  “What were you talking about with Madam Pomfrey?” Harry asked curiously.

 

  “I was interested in learning healing, so I asked her about it,” Rosie replied.

 

  “Is she going to teach you?” Harry asked, surprised.

 

  “Well, she’s giving me some books to read,” Rosie responded.

 

  “I don’t think I’d ever want to be a healer,” Neville said, scrunching up his face.  “Dealing with people with Spattergroit, or Dragon pox or Scrofungulus?  No thank you.”

 

  “I think it’s very noble!” Hermione interjected.  Rosie grinned at her.

 

  “Will you be heading back to your common room?” Rosie asked the three of them.  “There must be a big celebration going on after that win.  By the way, congratulations, Harry!”

 

Harry grinned widely.  “It was a pretty amazing game, wasn’t it?”

 

Rosie and Luna split from Harry and his friends, all of them heading for their respective towers.  Both Rosie and Luna had already finished all their homework, which meant that they both had the rest of the late afternoon and evening free.

 

  “Are you going to work on your new hat?” Rosie asked Luna, as they walked along the corridors and up the stairs.

 

  “Mm.” Luna replied.  “Though I think I need more feathers.”  Though Rosie was wildly curious about what the hat was supposed to be, she didn’t ask Luna.  She could sense that Luna preferred the surprise.

 

They headed up to their dormitory room.  Since that incident with Toby, Luna stopped spending any time in the common room at all.  As for Rosie, she was only there when Luna was out wandering.  Those days were usually spent reading by the window with Romulus.

 

While Luna sat upon her bed and pulled out her bundle of feathers, cloth, beads, wire and other craft materials, Rosie sat on her own bed and pulled open the book that she had been reading about magical babies.  She skimmed through various paragraphs here and there for about an hour but eventually, she found that she was unable to concentrate on the words.

 

  “Can I read one of your copies of  _ The Quibbler _ ?” Rosie asked Luna, after reading the same paragraph three times and not absorbing any of the words.

 

  “Of course!” Luna replied. She unlocked her trunk and pulled out the stack of magazines, setting it on bedside table next to Rosie’s bed.  Ever since Luna’s things had started to go missing, she had taken to locking up her possessions, whenever she could remember to do so (and if she forgot, Rosie often reminded her.)

 

Rosie had just finished reading a long expose on the Rotfang conspiracy, as well as an article on a mysterious new epidemic that left wizards and witches believing that they were turkeys.  She was now reading an article on a newly discovered ‘extremely powerful and mysterious’ runic pattern, when the feeling of blackness obscured the link between her and Harry.  She kept her eyes on the page in front of her, but her eyes weren’t focused on it.  She found herself wondering, ‘should I go to Harry?  No - wait, he’s probably in the Gryffindor common room.  Isn’t he?’  Mentally, she probed at the blackness, but it was like trying to touch the sky at night.

 

She looked away from the article in  _ The Quibbler _ to the book about baby magic beside her.  Would the book even have any answers?  Or was it just a futile search?  What could the blackness possibly be?  She had assumed it to be something dark, something to be fought against and defeated, but was she jumping to conclusions?  Perhaps it was something completely benign.

 

Setting down  _ The Quibbler _ she picked up the baby magic book again, scanning the pages.  There were theories about how certain potions could potentially refine a baby’s magic, theories about how a witch passes magic on to her baby in the womb, theories about the circumstances that were most likely to result in an incidence of accidental magic.  There was also very long section about squibs, and speculations as to why squibs were born.  She had come across a section that was speculating on baby communication, when she finally caught a reference to the idea of empathic links.  She read the section eagerly, desperate for clues:

 

_ The notion of baby witches and wizards communicating via empathic links dates back to the mid 1600s.  Baby witches and wizards have been known to be significantly more responsive and cognizant of people's’ words and emotions than muggle babies, but the reason for this has yet to be discovered.  Because it has long been established that performing legilimency on witches and wizards under the age of seven can potentially damage their fragile minds, no validation for this theory has yet been found.  It is highly possible that empathic links in babies is itself a rarity.  There have been at least 14 documented cases in the 1800s of baby witches and wizards who were clearly experiencing the same thing as their parents, many miles away. _

 

_ Experiments had been performed in the early 1800s, forcibly separating hundreds of wizarding children from their parents to determine whether or not such a link existed, but the results of these experiments were inconclusive, and eventually abandoned due to the outcry from the wizarding community of having their children taken away. _

 

_ Of the 14 documented cases, all of the babies lost their empathic link once they were able to articulate their first word.  There has been about twenty cases in the past century of those claiming to have empathic abilities.  Many of them were eventually exposed as frauds, and as for the rest, the results were inconclusive because of the nebulous nature of emotions and the difficulty of interpreting emotional messages.  Only one witch, a muggleborn by the name of Agnes Seymour was confirmed to be a true empath.  _

 

Rosie stared at the page consideringly.  Though the passage had very little to say about empathic links, she now had a name that could perhap yield more clues.  The blackness still had not faded, and she found herself wondering what Harry was up to. She closed her eyes, and mentally delved into the blackness, trying to push her way past it.  She kept thinking ‘further, just a little bit further.’  It seemed as though it was all around, thick, silent and endless.  Immersed within it, it had an oddly comforting quality, and she felt weightless, light, as though she were dissolving away…

 

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

 

  “Rosie!  Rosie! Wake up!”  

 

Luna was shaking her, and Rosie looked up at her friend in a daze.  

 

  “What’s going on, Luna?”  Rosie asked.  “I closed my eyes for just a second.”  Luna’s expression was less serene than usual, there was an unreadable quality in her eyes, almost as though Luna was peering into her soul.

 

  “You’ve been sitting there with your eyes closed for for almost two hours,” Luna informed her.  The blood left Rosie’s face.

 

  “Two - hours?”

 

  “It’s nearly 8o’clock.” said Luna.

 

  “What?  Oh no!  I have to go!  I’m supposed to meet Madam Pomfrey!”  Without another word, Rosie grabbed her bookbag and raced out the dorms, and down the Ravenclaw tower towards the hospital wing.

 

When she arrived at the hospital wing, Rosie was out of breath and breathing heavily.  She opened the door to the infirmary, calling out a hesitant, “Hello?”

 

  “Hello dear!  I wasn’t sure if you were going to show up,” Madam Pomfrey called out, coming out from behind the dividing curtains that offered patients a small measure of privacy.  As the curtain was momentarily pushed aside, Rosie saw a body lying on the bed, holding what looked like a camera in the person’s stiff hands.

 

  “Is that -” Rosie’s expression was startled and slightly frightened, as she wondered if she had just seen what she thought she saw.

 

  “Did someone else get petrified?” Rosie asked Madam Pomfrey.  The matron pursed her lips, as though she did not want to answer.  She gave a curt nod.

 

  “Don’t be spreading the word around, now.  We don’t want to frighten the students.”

 

Rosie furrowed her brow.  “Will they be okay?”  Madam Pomfrey’s expression softened.

 

  “Don’t you worry dear.  We’re waiting for Professor Sprout’s mandrakes to reach their full size.  Once they do, we’ll be able to brew some Restorative Draught.  They’ll be perfectly fine.”  

 

Rosie sighed with relief.

 

  “I’m guessing you came here for those books, and not to gawk?” Madam Pomfrey said, rather pointedly.  Rosie nodded, feeling slightly abashed.  Walking over to a table along one of the walls, she picked up a short pile of thick books and then handed them over to Rosie.

 

  “Thank you!” Rosie said gratefully.  Madam Pomfrey smiled warmly. 

 

  “I do hope you’ll enjoy those books.  Healing is a wonderful art that does the world so much good.”  Rosie nodded in agreement. She couldn’t wait to learn everything she could about the magic of healing.

 

The following week, an owl swooped down over the breakfast table and Rosie received yet another letter from Remus.  She was delighted to see that he was replying to her more frequently, and she excitedly opened and read the letter.  She noticed that instead of simply answering her questions, he was starting to ask her questions of his own.  

 

 “Rom,” Rosie said as she held the letter, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Remus says that when you were a kid, you used to make experimental potions with plants and herbs and you made him drink all your experiments?”  Rosie grinned with amusement.  “How did you manage not to kill him?”

 

Romulus scowled, putting down the piece of ham that he had been about to bite into.  “What is Remus telling you?”  He leaned his forehead against his hand, and growled with irritation. “I can’t believe I suggested that you write him.”

 

  “Well, actually, it was my suggestion.  But you approved.”  Rosie smiled cheekily.

 

  “And of course I would never poison Remus!  I tested all the plants and herbs on myself first,” Romulus informed her.

 

  “What?  How?” Rosie exclaimed, shocked.

 

  “First a skin test - I would rub the section of plant, either leaf, flower or root on my forearm.  If there was no reaction, then the following day, I would put the part of the plant in my mouth, and then spit it out.  If I still felt fine after that, I tried eating the plant.  And of course, I usually kept vials of antidote and bezoar with me at all times.  But I have a high tolerance for many poisons.”  

 

Rosie was impressed.  She and Harry had never attempted making experimental potions in their makeshift lab in Grimmauld Place before.  Even if they tried, neither of them would have dared to be the first to use the potion.

 

  “I can see why Professor Snape would be willing to give you extra assignments.  Why are you still in first-year potions class?” Rosie asked.

 

  “I have to successfully make three potions of his choosing before I’m permitted to advance.  I’ve already made one, and I’ll be starting the next one tomorrow,” Romulus explained.   He was starting to feel a bit worn out, and took a bite of his ham.  It was too much talking at once.

 

  “I’ll be sad when you’re no longer my lab partner,” Rosie said, smiling weakly at Romulus.

 

  “You’ll be fine,” he replied with a shrug.  “You’re good at potions.  His attention focused back on his food.

 

The lessons of the first year were starting to get slightly more challenging, but for many of the more diligent Ravenclaws, it presented no challenge.  Like many of her other peers, Rosie had a strong grasp on the majority of the first year material.  However, she found herself feeling a strong sympathy for Duncan Inglebee and the other mysterious student who were not able to attend their studies.

 

While the incident of Duncan’s petrification had caused an immense outcry, both among students and the greater wizarding community at large, the second’s student’s petrification seemed to have been completely hushed up.  She wouldn’t even have known who it was, except that Harry, Hermione and Neville had told her that it was one of their first years, a boy named Colin Creevy, and that the Gryffindor house had been sworn to secrecy to not tell anyone ‘lest they alarm the student body.’  The orders were straight from the headmaster himself.

 

  “But shouldn’t they warn the students, so that they know to be careful?” Rosie had asked Harry and his friends, as they sat together at a table in the library.

 

  “Shh!!” replied Hermione.  “We really shouldn’t have even told you-”

 

  “But I know you can keep a secret,” Harry finished.  “Besides, I agree with you Rosie.  If more people know the details, then more minds can come together to solve this problem.”

 

  “I don’t know, Harry,” said Neville skeptically.  “My parents have said that even the Ministry keeps a lot of things secret so that people don’t panic.”

 

  “And I’m sure that the school is doing everything that they can to solve the problem,” Hermione added.

 

  “And that’s why you three are brewing polyjuice potion?  Because you have so much faith in the school?” Rosie asked, with an edge of irony in her voice.  Hermione’s ears pinkened, and she looked rather sheepish.

 

  “Well, the school can’t do everything.  We have a duty to help,” Hermione said, with a touch of defensiveness.

 

  “How is the potion coming along, by the way?” Rosie asked.  “Where did you get the ingredients for it?”  Hermione flushed even deeper, looking almost beet red.  Rosie looked from Harry to Hermione questioningly.

 

  “It’s better that you don’t know,” Harry said.  “That way you won’t get into trouble.  But the potion is going well.”  Harry grinned.  “It’s a fun one to brew.”  Hermione nodded in response.

 

While Harry and Hermione had been busy with the polyjuice potion, Luna kept herself occupied working on her new hat (she could be extremely focused if a project mattered a great deal to her), and Rosie read the books Madam Pomfrey had given her on healing.  She had also tried to do research on the empath, Agnes Seymour, but all she could find were old public records saying that Agnes Seymour was a muggleborn witch, and her profession was a healer.  Evidently, she wasn’t even a particularly famous healer, because when Rosie had asked Madam Pomfrey about Agnes Seymour, the matron had had no idea who Agnes even was.

 

The black outs in the empathic link between her and Harry seemed to be happening on a daily basis.  Usually it would only occur once a day, for a few hours, but there were some days when it occurred twice.  For whatever reason, she had never yet encountered Harry during these black out moments.  She had also never tried to probe too deeply into the blackness again, after that incident where she had lost two hours of her life, wandering around in it.

 

Around mid-November, when Rosie had finished her Charms class and had to make her way to Potions, she had felt the black out encompassing the empathic link again.  She was so accustomed to it at this point that she did not give it a great deal of thought.  Harry himself had had no answers.  Whenever she brought it up, he would seem clueless, or he would offer rationalizations (“Maybe it’s just a part of growing up?  You said that most babies lose their empathic abilities naturally.  You could just be long overdue.”   “But it doesn’t feel like I’m losing my empathic abilities, Harry!”   “Yeah, but how would you know how something like that would feel like in the first place?  You have had your abilities your whole life!”)  

 

She found herself wondering if Harry was right.  Could the blackness just be a sign that her abilities were fading away?  The thought made her incredibly sad - not because she was attached the ability, but because it made her feel as though she was somehow less close to Harry.  Rosie balled her hands into tight fists, as she walked along the corridors that would take her towards the dungeons.  If this was what growing up was all about, then she wish she didn’t have to grow up!  

 

Rosie’s thoughts had distracted her to the point that when she was climbing down one of the staircases and it shifted its direction, she was completely caught off guard.  Many of her classmates were already far ahead of her, which meant that she was the only one who had been caught on the wayward stairs.  It also meant that she would have to take a bit of a detour - hopefully she wouldn’t be late for Professor Snape’s class.  He had an extremely low tolerance for lateness - either docking a great deal of points, or sometimes even locking students out of the class altogether.  She hurried her pace, turning a right and then a left.

 

Just as she turned around a bend, she caught sight of Harry in the intersecting corridor up ahead.  Her brother looked as though he was having a rather personal conversation with one of the upperclassmen.  The pair of them had their heads close together, and she couldn’t hear a single word they were saying.  Who was Harry talking to?  It obviously wasn’t Hermione or Neville, or even Fred or George Weasley.  The person looked rather familiar - whoever he was, he was tall and slender, with glossy black hair.  Unlike Harry, the person’s hair was neat and tidy.  

 

Harry and the older boy were standing in a shadowy part of the corridor, almost as though they did not want to be seen.  Harry’s expression had a strange intensity as though whatever information he was conveying was of the utmost importance.  The tall boy occasionally nodded in response to his words.  It was bizarre to be seeing Harry, but not feeling him, due to the black out of their link.  What in the world was going on?  The tall boy suddenly turned his head so that Rosie could see his profile, and she was shocked to see that it was Toby Woodbridge.  What in Merlin’s name could Harry possibly be saying to the Ravenclaw fourth year?  She had been about to sneak closer to them, hoping to hear a whisper of their conversation when she felt a hand grip her arm.  She almost jumped.

 

Rosie turned around to see Romulus behind her.  He released her arm when her gaze focused on him.

 

  “We’re going to be late for potions if we don’t hurry,” he said.  Rosie’s eyes widened.  She had almost forgotten!  Nodding at Romulus, the pair of them turned back and dashed towards the dungeons, arriving just in the nick of time.

 

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

 

Romulus led Primrose through the corridors, and even took a shortcut through a secret staircase down to the dungeons.  Without the shortcut, they would have been late and that could have potentially stirred up Professor Snape’s ire enough that the Professor would refuse to let him do any more special projects.  Professor Snape had always seemed like the sort of person that only gave you one chance, and if you failed him, it would be near to impossible to redeem yourself in his eyes.

 

Yet, when he noticed that Primrose wasn’t with the rest of the Ravenclaws heading towards the dungeon, he knew he had to find her.  One did not just abandon pack members after all, and though he may have tried to resist the idea earlier in the term, he now saw her as one of his pack.

 

  “Miss Potter, Mr. Lupin,” Professor Snape intoned as they entered the classroom behind everyone else.  His unfathomable black eyes watched them as they took their seat.  Snape waited until all the eyes of the students were focused on him before he spoke.

 

  “Today we will be brewing the Herbicide Potion,” he informed them.  “The recipe can be found on page 39 of your textbooks.”  The students dutifully opened the textbooks to the proper page.

 

  “Why might one want to keep the Herbicide Potion on hand?” he asked.  Several of the students raised their hands.  “And don’t says ‘weeds’” the Professor added, giving Finley Ancrum, one of the Hufflepuffs, a withering look.  A number of the students lowered their hands.

 

  “Miss Bhatt?”

 

  “You can use it to deal with aggressive and predatory plants,” Haasa Bhatt, Luna’s lab partner answered.

 

  “And why is it so effective against aggressive plants, Miss Bhatt?”  

 

Haasa Bhatt shook her head nervously.  “I don’t know sir.”  Several other students raised their hands.

 

  “Miss Harwich?”

 

  “It’s effective against dangerous plants because even if the potion fails to touch the plant, the fumes can often weaken or immobilize the plants,” Edine Harwich answered.  Her friend Sakiko shot her a quick smile, and Edine’s expression was smug.

 

  “These fumes, while not fatal to humans, can have damaging effects on your health and mental capacities.  Do make sure you use the proper safety precautions today.  Some of you-” Professor Snape glanced over at Finley Ancrum, “can’t afford to lose any more brain cells.”

 

While Primrose went over to the ingredients cupboard to gather the required material, Romulus cleaned the lab space, and examined the cauldron to assure that it was free of residue.  The stirring sticks were given an extra wipe, and he neatly organized their workspace so that they could prepare ingredients and brew efficiently.  He placed the cutting tools in straight, neat rows, and placed the mortar and pestle in the corner, out of the way.

 

Just as Primrose was returning with all the necessary ingredients, Snape swept over to their table, his robes billowing behind him.  Primrose placed the ingredients in neat piles on the cutting area and the pair of them looked up at the Professor.  Primrose’s expression was inquiring, while Romulus kept his face neutral.

 

  “Mr. Lupin,” the Professor said in low tones.  “You are to sit out this potion today.  You may use one of the desks in the back and start your essay on the Strengthening Solution.  We shall see how well Miss Potter does without your - aid.”  Romulus gave him a respectful nod, and then picked up his schoolbag, making his way to the back of the classroom where there were empty seats.  While Primrose did not have the same degree of proficiency as he did, he knew that she could brew all the first year potions perfectly.  

 

As Romulus pulled out his parchment and quills, as well as  _ Intermediate Potions and Draughts _ , he kept an eye on the rest of the class.  Primrose seemed to be doing fine on her own.  Edine and Sakiko were whispering and shooting looks at Luna.  However under the watchful eye of the Professor, they were unwilling to do anything that could get them into trouble.  Finley Ancrum seemed to have forgotten one of his safety precautions.  There would certainly be an accident before the day was out.

 

As for Professor Snape, he paced up and down the aisles of the classroom, keeping a close eye on all his students.  Despite the air of normalcy, Romulus once again got the impression that he was watching Primrose more than he watched the other students.  It was not his first time getting this impression, but the Professor was always so subtle about it that he couldn’t be sure.  He wasn’t certain what the Professor’s intent was towards Primrose.  The Professor always smelled so strongly of potion ingredients that Romulus could never tell what Snape’s mood was based on smell.

 

As Romulus’s quill flew over his page, he kept his senses alert.  Whether the Professor meant well or whether he meant harm, Romulus was determined to protect Primrose.   _ No one _ laid a finger on his pack.  Not while he was around.

 

Potions was their last class of the day and as Romulus predicted, Finley had managed to injure himself and his lab partner.  Snape naturally poured a litany in Finley’s ear about his complete lack of wits.  Erstwhile Finley cowered, with whey-faced terror (and in pain from all the Herbicide potion that had splattered on his arms.)

 

The rest of the students spilled out of the classroom, relieved that they had escaped Snape’s ire.  Rosie’s potion was, of course perfect, just as Romulus knew it would be.

 

In the following potions class later in the week, Professor Snape once again had Romulus sitting out, while Primrose worked alone.  It seemed that Snape was gradually starting to trust Romulus and his abilities. 

 

Their next class that day was Defense, and the thought of it made a vein in his forehead pulse.  He usually just sat at the back of the class, and read a books on jinxes, hexes and curses.  It helped to visualize using those hexes on Professor Lockhart.

 

Lockhart was, at that very moment, having a couple of the students volunteering to help him act out his so-called daring exploits.

 

  “I’m so scared, Professor Lockhart!  I just saw a Yeti!” said one of the Hufflepuff girls in a simpering voice, batting her eyelashes at the professor.

 

  “Never fear, dear damsel!” Lockhart proclaimed, pulling out his wand with a dramatic sweep, and then turning to face his audience to continue his narrative.

 

  “While the innocent damsel went back to her village, I climbed the mountain with nothing in hand but my wand and my wits!”

 

  “What about shoes?” Luna asked, in her dreamy voice.  “Did you at least have shoes?”  Edine and Sakiko rolled their eyes and shot Luna a spiteful glare.

 

  “Er-” said Lockhart.  “Yes.  And shoes.  My wits, my wand, and my shoes.  As I was saying, that mountain had killed lesser men, but although the snow pelted at my face, I had the heat of my own righteousness to keep me warm.  The abominable Yeti had vanquished all who had come before me.”  

 

  “And then?” asked one of the admiring students, breathlessly.

 

  “Well, here’s the twist,” Lockhart said in a conspiratory voice.  “Those who crossed the Yeti’s path all saw him as an enemy.  But not I!  I, and I alone looked into that great beast’s eyes, and I saw it’s heart.  It was lonely!  I sat the great beast down to tea, and set him straight.  I told him that if he wanted to make friends, he needed to be charming.  Like me!”  Lockhart flashed his blinding white teeth. “And now, he’s got a village full of friends.  Children ride on his back, like a pony!”

 

   “That’s so moving!” Eleanor Wynch, the plump auburn Hufflepuff exclaimed.  Romulus cringed.

 

  “The lesson here is, never underestimate the power of a winning smile!”  Lockhart flashed his teeth once again, and several of the students clapped and cheered.  Romulus was horrified.  His only consolation was that at least Primrose looked just as dismayed as he felt.

 

When Defense had ended (finally!  Romulus thought he’d pull out his hair if he had to listen to Lockhart for another second), the Ravenclaws made their way downstairs, through the corridors and out to the greenhouse for Herbology.  As they walked along the corridors, Romulus caught an odd scent.  He looked over and there were a group of Slytherin students, wearing matching smirks on their faces.  He watched them curiously.  The smell seemed to have a odd signature that he didn’t recognize.  Whatever it was, he had the impression that it was magical.

 

The Slytherins seemed to be led by a blond boy, and as they strolled along the corridor, the blond’s shoulder smacked into another student.

 

  “Watch where you’re going, Mudblood,” the blond snapped at the bewildered student.  Romulus watched the exchange impassively.  It had been obvious that the blond had deliberately slammed into the other student.  And oddly enough, the frightened student, who stammered an apology, and was scampering away now seemed to have a trace of that strange scent.  Romulus looked over at the Slytherin’s consideringly.  He didn’t know what was happening, but something was afoot.

 

Over the coming days, Romulus’s instincts proved the be correct.  He could not tell if the smell was benign or if it was dangerous, but whatever it was, more and more students seemed to be marked by it.  He couldn’t detect a clear pattern, but he noticed that most Gryffindors bore the scent, while most Slytherins didn’t.  There were a scattering of Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws who carried the odd scent as well.  Whatever it was, he didn’t like it.  He made a concentrated effort to avoid the Slytherins who seemed to be doing the “marking.”  A low growl escaped his throat.  He would ever let anyone mark him, if he could help it.


	10. Chapter 10

Harry was feeling pretty good about his life these days.  He had great friends, a great family, and he was interested in almost all of his classes.  Last year, he had felt very apprehensive about coming to Hogwarts.  He knew that as The Boy Who Lived, he would attract a lot of attention.  Getting attention, whether negative or positive seemed to be his whole life story.  He would have preferred not getting any attention at all, but on the day that Lord Voldemort had marked him and left the scar on his forehead, that choice was taken out of his hands.

 

Harry’s first year had been hard.  He had already been nervous about it, and Sirius had been pouring stories in his ear about how horrible Snivellus was.  He remembered the moment when his name had been called at the Sorting Feast, all eyes in the Hall had turned to him.  He had longed to just turn tail and run away, but he forced himself to go forwards and face his fate.

 

He had been happy to have been sorted into Gryffindor.  It was the same house as his parents, and Sirius.  Plus, his friend Neville and the nice girl he had met on the train, Hermione had been sorted into Gryffindor.  The hat had spent a while, debating whether or not to sort him into Ravenclaw or Gryffindor, but he had thought to himself ‘Please let it be Gryffindor, please let it be Gryffindor!’  When the Hat had called ‘Gryffindor,’ Harry had felt a burst of relief and joy.

 

Harry had assumed that being sorted with his friends boded well for the year ahead, but he turned out to be terribly wrong.  Snape had hated him almost from the start, and his constant antagonizing attitude had turned many of the Gryffindors against him.  Worst of the lot were Seamus, Dean and Ron, who seemed to make it their life's goal to antagonize him at every turn.

 

Thus, when the second school year rolled around, Harry had been less than excited about it.  September had been about as bad as he expected it to be.  Snape maliciously tormented him - Seamus and his friends relentlessly bullied him.  There was never a moment he really felt safe. 

 

To help him cope, he threw himself into his school work, spending almost all his free time reading or studying.  Harry supposed that all his efforts explained why late September and all of October were a complete blur in his memory.  He felt like he couldn’t really even remember what he had been doing that month.  But whatever it was, his grades had certainly never been better.  Somehow, he even managed to improve in the practical component of potions.  He always knew he had the capability, and he supposed his hard work and studying paid off.

 

By the time  Hallowe’en rolled around, it seemed like all his problems had vanished.  He couldn’t pinpoint when it had happened, but it was as though his anxiety had just melted away.  Potions became easier, and when it became easier, Snape no longer had a reason to attack him.  Snape still obviously disliked him - Harry was hardly oblivious to the hostile stares from the potion master’s black eyes.  But there was nothing Snape could do against him - not when his potions turned out so well, and he answered all of Snape’s questions correctly in class.  Plus, Harry had never been one to create trouble outside of class, even if trouble did sometimes find him.  Once Snape’s attentions were elsewhere, (namely on Seamus and his friends), the other Gryffindors seemed to relax towards him.  He was no longer the odd duck who flinched at his own shadow, as Seamus would have said.  In fact, many of the Gryffindors even seemed to like him.  As an added bonus, he stopped having nightmares.

 

Harry’s mind turned to an incident he had with Seamus and his friends just a few days ago - if it could really even be called an incident.  He had been walking through the corridors at the time - Neville and Hermione were in the library, and he had stepped out to use the bathroom.  On his way back, he was turning a corner when he felt his legs tangling beneath him as he was hit by the tripping jinx.  His hands instinctively flew out in front of him, and he caught himself as he hit the floor.  It was a good thing he wasn’t holding any books, or he may have instinctively tried to protect the books instead.  

 

Pushing himself back up on his feet, he looked behind him, he saw Seamus, Dean and Ron snickering with amusement.  One would think that they’d get tired of using the tripping jinx by now, but clearly, their simple mind still found it as entertaining as ever.  Harry supposed that it was fortunate that they rarely ever attempted nastier jinxes or hexes.  But considering Seamus and his friends’ lack of finesse, the moment they tried a more dangerous hex would probably be the same moment a teacher came across their path.  They had the typical Gryffindor luck of walking straight into trouble.  It was fortunate then, for Harry that his main school rivals (if one could even call Seamus a rival), was not a Slytherin.  

 

Seeing Seamus and his friends snickering at him, Harry pulled his wand out, and in the moment of excitement (perhaps it was the adrenaline rush?) he issued a hex, aimed straight for Seamus.  Oddly, for the life of him, he couldn’t remember what he even said (and he wish he could remember, because it was a pretty neat hex).  But then, Seamus started clutching his nose as yellowish pus squirted out of his nose, leaving a gooey mess on his robes.

 

  “Uugh!  Gross, mate!” Ron had said, recoiling from his friend with a look of horror.  Dean, whose lip was also curled with disgust looked away from his friend and when his gaze alighted upon Harry, he gave him a look that was a mix between bewildered and appraising.  Seamus had opened his mouth to speak (did he want to insult Harry?  Curse him?)  But Seamus changed his mind in an instant, when the yellow ooze dribbled into his mouth, and his face turned green with revulsion and nausea.

 

  “Let’s take him to the infirmary,” Dean said softly, pulling his attention away from Harry, and the strange gleam of resolution in Harry’s eyes.  Ron nodded.  Harry slowly lowered his wand when it was clear that neither Ron nor Dean planned to retaliate on behalf of their pus-covered friend.

 

  “Ugh!  Don’t turn your head towards me!  I don’t want your snot all over me!” Ron yelped, as he grabbed one of Seamus’s arms.  Both Ron and Dean had shot Harry a look before then pulled their friend towards the Hospital wing.  Curiously, it wasn’t a hostile look - if anything, there might have been a grudging respect on their faces.  Harry didn’t give it much thought  But since that day, Seamus and his friends had given him a wide berth.  

 

Harry had to admit, he felt so - confident!  He didn’t know when the feeling arose, and didn’t question it.  But he felt like he could take on the world.  More than that, he almost felt like if he wished to, he could hold the world in the palm of his hand.  He need only reach for it.  

 

The only thing that seemed to mar his otherwise great life was that his sleeping habits seemed to be out of balance.  He often woke up after a night of sleep and felt as though he hadn’t gotten any rest.  Sometimes, he’d find himself asleep at the library, and then wake up, feeling confused about the books he had in front of him.  Most of the books seemed to be recent history books - stories about the past few decades.  Many of the books related to himself, or to He Who Must Not Be Named, or to recent war.  He didn’t recall ever taking out those books, so he assumed that other students had left them there.

 

Once, he even fell asleep at the library, and then later woke up in a different part of the castle.  Hermione was convinced that he was studying too hard, and Harry supposed that she was right.

 

Even Rosie kept giving him weird glances, and asking him questions.  Some of the questions didn’t even make sense.  He thought back to a recent conversation that he had had with her.

 

  “Harry,” Rosie said her hazel-green eyes boring into his own.  “How do you know Toby?”

 

  “Toby?”

 

  “Toby Woodbridge.  He’s Ravenclaw, fourth year.”

 

  “The one who is supposedly a genius?” Harry asked, and then added under his breath “But I think Hermione is even smarter.”

 

  “Yes, the one who is supposedly a genius.  I saw you talking to him in one of the corridors,” Rosie kept looking at him in such a searching way.  If she wasn’t his sister, he would have been unnerved.

 

  “I don’t think I’ve ever spoken to Toby before,” Harry replied. “Are you sure it was me you saw?”

 

  “Are you implying that I wouldn’t even recognize my own brother?” Rosie replied, affronted.

 

  “Okay, okay, nevermind.  Are you sure it was Toby you saw?”

 

Rosie furrowed her brow.  “I’m pretty sure.  Though not a hundred percent sure.”

 

  “Why are you asking about Toby anyway?” 

 

Rosie’s expression was troubled. “I just don’t trust him.  It’s his fault that Luna - Well - he’s a bully.  Except he’s the kind of bully that never does his own dirty work.”

 

Harry wrinkled his nose.  “Sounds like a real prat.  I don’t think I’d ever want to associate with someone like that.”

 

  “I didn’t think so,” Rosie murmured, but instead of being reassured, she looked more troubled than ever.  She was silent for a moment.

 

  “You look tired, Harry,” she finally said.  “Is everything okay?”

 

  “I think so.  I’m probably just studying too hard.  I keep falling asleep in the library,” Harry laughed sheepishly.  Rosie’s lips twitched at the corners.

 

  “Do you remember how, when you were a kid, you used to always fall asleep in that big armchair in the parlour with a book on your lap?”  Rosie laughed, feeling a wave of nostalgia.  “Sometimes it seemed like you slept more there than in your own bed.”

 

Harry grinned.  “Well, Hogwarts as good a place as any to continue the tradition.”

 

  “I’m surprised Neville and Hermione haven’t commented on you sleeping in the library though - wouldn’t they try and wake you up?”

 

Harry furrowed his brow has he considered her words.  “They’re probably too nice to do that.  I mean, they’re always telling me I work too hard.”

 

Rosie grinned.  “The hat should have sorted you into Hufflepuff.  Or Ravenclaw, with me!”

 

  “Ha!  Could you imagine Sirius’s reaction if I had been a ‘Puff?”

 

  “The Hufflepuffs are nice!  You would have done well there!” Rosie replied, defending the Badger House.

 

  “Well, the Gryffindors are also nice,” Harry responded.  Rosie gave him a look.

 

  “They’re nice now,” he added with a note of defenciveness.

 

  “Conditionally nice.  Only because you’re doing well in potions now, so they have no reason to bully you.”  Rosie’s expression was stubborn, with a hint of anger that hardened her eyes.  Harry shrugged.

 

  “Well, I’m happy.”

 

Rosie sighed. “I  _ am _ glad you’re happy Harry.  And I’m glad you’re doing as well in potions as I knew you would.  I just wish I could figure out why I keep feeling this blackness in our link.”

 

  “Oh, Rosie,” Harry said with sympathy.  He pulled her into a hug.  “It must be hard, sensing something your whole life, and then having it fading away. I’m sorry.”  

 

Rosie hugged him back. “I don’t like it Harry,” she said, her voice muffled by his school robes.

 

  “I know,” he said.  But just because you can’t feel me, it doesn’t mean that I’m not there for you.  You’re my sister!”

 

  “I know,” Rosie replied with a sigh.  They pulled apart awkwardly.  They were starting to get too old for hugs, but Rosie had to admit, sometimes hugs were still nice.

 

  “How are your studies with Madam Pomfrey going?” Harry asked her, to distract her.

 

  “It’s really interesting!  She has me coming into the Hospital wing every Tuesday and Friday evening, and I get to watch her.  I haven’t started on any of the healing spells yet, but soon, she’s going to have me starting with the  _ Episkey _ spell on small cuts.”  Rosie continued on, chattering with bright enthusiasm, and Harry listened to her with interest.  Her excitement filled him with a vicarious sort of happiness, and he found himself thinking once again that yes, life was good.

 

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

 

Harry’s mood seemed to be so buoyant and light that Rosie’s thoughts began to turn away from him and the darkness of their link.  Instead, she focused on Luna and the bullying issues.  Rosie was dismayed that Luna’s situation was not getting any better.  While she had been distracted by Harry’s issues, as well as being preoccupied with healing lessons, she felt that she had begun to neglect her friend.  However, her lack of attention was not deliberate.  Luna’s possessions continued to go missing, and while Luna seemed to maintain her equanimity, Rosie found the situation intolerable.  She had considered confronting Toby several times.  Mentally, she scripted several scenarios in her head for how she wanted to deal with him.  Most of the time, she just wanted to hex him until he was on his knees, begging Luna’s forgiveness.

 

The only thing that held her back was that as Luna’s friend, any action she took against Toby could result in backlash that would only hurt Luna further.  She wished that she could take all the negative attention that was directed towards Luna and shoulder the burden herself.  Luna was such a gentle spirit that it seemed to be a gross injustice for so much animosity to fall on her shoulders.

 

Though Rom always helped to find Luna’s lost belongings, he never seemed particularly bothered by interpersonal interactions.  If he was at all troubled by the student’s bullying Luna, he never showed it.  She had tried asking his opinion once for how to help Luna.  He had only shrugged in response, and said: “In the wild, the weak don’t last long.”  It was decidedly unhelpful, and she had stormed off in a huff.

 

What Rosie found particularly distressing was that the situation only seemed to be getting worse.  Already, most of the students at Hogwarts were calling Luna “Loony.”  Meanwhile, many of the Ravenclaws seemed be in competition to see who could make life the most difficult for Luna.  Rosie and Luna were constantly finding small creatures like insects and frogs in Luna’s clothes. Since Luna seemed to have a strong affinity for all animals, this never particularly bothered her.

 

Occasionally, Luna’s belongings would be tampered with, with charms created to make Luna’s possessions unusable.  Her textbooks would be charmed so that they wouldn’t open (but Rosie always shared her textbooks with Luna), or her clothes would be charmed so that insulting or offensive words flashed brightly across her clothes.  Rosie and Luna also found that they had to frequently dodge stray dungbombs that got thrown their way.  They never found out who the culprits were, but Rosie was depressingly sure that there were too many culprits to count.

 

However, it was when Ravenclaws started trying to hex Luna that she finally had the last straw.  Luna and Rosie managed to dodge most of the few hexes thrown their way, but Rosie was incensed that any students would dare to go so far as to attack.  She was going to have a word with Toby.  She didn’t care if he tried to ruin her life as well as Luna’s.  Toby had to be taken down.

 

One day, after Luna and Rosie had both been hexed by the tripping jinx (which fortunately, didn’t cause much harm, but the students in the hall had snickered with amusement), Rosie had stormed up to the Ravenclaw common room in a simmering rage.  She didn’t even check to see if Luna was following behind her.  All she could think about was how much she hated Toby for his horrible, spiteful behaviour.  True, he had never once said another word to Luna since that fateful day, but she knew that he was at the heart of all of Luna’s troubles.  It was an unspoken part of the Ravenclaw culture - the most intelligent of them all had the most power.  That, and Toby and his friends were good-looking, which always helped when one was surrounded by teenagers.

 

The common room was fairly full - it was late afternoon and many of the students had finished their classes for the day.  However, Rosie disregarded all the other students.  To her, the only person in the room seemed to be Toby.  He was sitting in his usual chair, leaning back in a relaxed pose.  His elbow was on the armrest, and his chin was resting against his knuckles with a casual grace.  His friends Samir and Christopher seemed to be relating an anecdote, and a slight, but cold smile tugged at Toby’s lips.

 

Marietta and Sarah kept peeking over at Toby in a way that lacked any subtlety, while Cho was reading a book.  Romulus was sitting in his usual seat by the window, and though he had been reading, he lowered the book, and followed Rosie with his eyes.  Her body language was extremely tense, and anger seemed to pour off her in waves.  However, when he noticed where her eyes were fixed, he felt only a horrible sense of sickness in his gut - the way a wolf might feel when it watched one of its pack members facing off with a bear.  Had the girl gone completely daft?

 

Rosie strode over to Toby’s 'territory' and stopped at the edge of the coffee table, looking down at him with a frigid coldness.  Noticing her presence, Toby glanced towards her, and his eyebrow raised, ever so slightly.  There was no tension in him.  He seemed completely unperturbed by her rage, though in truth, Rosie was usually good at keeping her emotions under control.

 

  “Woodbridge,” she said coldly.  He was no friend of her’s and she refused to call him by his given name.  Toby scanned her face, before smiling, one of his usual fake smiles that tended to cause girls like Marietta to fall into states of rapture.  But Rosie was unaffected.  She refused to let someone like Toby Woodbridge get the best of her.

 

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

 

Toby looked up with mild curiosity at the dark-haired first year that was glaring at him with eyes like ice chips.  Christopher had been relaying some of his thoughts about the upcoming Quidditch season, and potential new maneuvers.  Something about how the angle of his body, and the charms in the particular model of broom would affect the velocity and sharpness of his turns.  Christopher had done the calculations in History of Magic (and truth be told, History of Magic was an excellent time to work on - well - anything else).  He had also drawn up detailed diagrams, as well as some additional calculations factoring in the wind speed and the wind resistance from his robes.  It was fairly interesting - frankly, without Christopher’s insight, Toby would have a lot less interest in Quidditch.

 

However, Christopher had fallen silent as the little first year drew near. For the most part, Toby, Samir and Christopher were used to be approached by the other students.  Not usually when they were lounging in their own personal corner of the Nest.  But they were frequently answering questions and tutoring the other Eagles.  It was part of their image - their intellectual mastery.  Knowledge was currency and power in the Ravenclaw Nest.  As such, Toby and his friends were sovereign.  Not that Toby was particularly power hungry - if that were the case, he would have been better off in Slytherin.  It was just that being at the top gave one a better view, and Toby liked to think that he could see further (and deeper) than most.  

 

Though Primrose’s features were even, Toby could tell that she was holding in a bubbling cauldron of anger.  Did she think that she was hiding her emotions well?  Perhaps better than a Gryffindor or Hufflepuff, but really - her eyes gave her away.  Christopher was looking mildly put out that his story had been interrupted.  Samir, with his heart as soft as warm butter, was looking worried.  Frankly, if Samir hadn’t been his childhood friend, he would long ago tried to turn that softness into something else - something jagged-edged and cold.  But for some reason, he found that he couldn’t do it.  Not yet, anyway.

 

He had seen Primrose’s face before - she was the only friend to that little blonde first year who had dared to sit in his seat.  Not only that, she was the little sister of the Boy Who Lived.  Harry Potter was an interesting character - with a past like his, how could he not be?  And really, most people were so incredibly boring.  It was nice for the school to have a little celebrity with such a delightfully dark and troubled history.  After all, the Dark Lord had tried to murder him as a baby, and his parents were in the nut house.  A history like that could really do things to twist a person’s mind and heart up.  But Toby wasn’t the sort of person to assume that just because one sibling was interesting, that the other would be as well.  Little Miss Potter carried herself in a way that wasn’t at all like how Harry carried himself.  Frankly, she seemed a lot more ordinary, and therefore, not worthy of inspection.

 

Toby hadn’t really gotten to know Harry Potter in the previous year.  He didn’t really have a reason to approach the messy-haired firstie last year.  When Toby had initially heard that Harry Potter would be a student at Hogwarts, he was expecting either great strength or great fragility - probably a combination of both.  But as he observed the first year, it was evident from the boy’s body language that he leaned closer towards fragility.  For the most part, Toby just observed from a distance.  To liven things up, he would sometimes make bets with Samir and Christopher.  In this case, the bet was: How long before the Boy Who Lived breaks?  

 

But then, something changed, and Toby was soon aware that the bets were off.  If Harry Potter was mildly interesting last year, he was very interesting now.  The fragility was fast vanishing, and in its place, was something deliciously dark.  It gave Toby thrills of pleasure to think about it.  Not so much the darkness, but the wonderfully unpredictable turn of events.  Most people craved the security of a foreseeable future.  But not Toby.  He preferred chaos, any day.

 

The sister of Harry Potter was another story.  In all honesty, Toby had had no intention of getting to know the girl.  She seemed like so many other Ravenclaws - studious, hungry for knowledge, well-mannered goody-goods.  Sure, many of the Eagles were able to hold more interesting conversations than most of the other students.  But ‘more interesting’ was relative to ‘incredibly boring.’

 

Nonetheless, she was bolder than most Ravenclaws for daring to confront him.  And he could see that she was anticipating an attack.  As much as Toby hated predictability, he also hated being predictable.  It wouldn’t do for anyone to think that they could guess Toby’s next actions (other than guessing that he would receive excellent grades).  It felt mildly insulting to have to deal with a hot-tempered firstie.  There were so many better entertainments.  Still, maybe he could make the most of it, and have a little fun.  No harm in having a new toy to play with.

 

  “What can I do for you?” Toby asked, his keeping voice smooth and melodic.  He was aware of the hush that had come over the other Ravenclaws.  He supposed it wouldn’t hurt to turn this into a little spectacle.  Plus, it was mildly flattering, to see the way that the other Eagles leaned in, trying to catch his every word.  He could see why Slytherins were so attracted to power.  But as amusing as power was, knowledge was even more interesting.

 

  “Tell your little minions to leave Luna alone,” miss Potter replied.  Childish bravery, Toby thought.  Is that the best she has?  Still, it was a bit funny.  The other Eagles were like minions, weren’t they?  As easy to read as the books they so worshipped.  At least his minions were smart.  Sometimes.

 

  “Luna?” Toby replied, while he pretended to ‘remember’ who Luna was.  Of course, in truth, with his memory, he knew the names of all the Ravenclaws.  Nothing escaped his notice in this house.  But he liked to pretend to forget things sometimes.  It made others think that he was like them - normal.  Human.  It meant that others let their guard down, so that Toby could slip into the cracks, and pull out the bits of information he desired.  Assuming there was anything interesting to discover.

 

   “Ah, the whimsical little first year.”  Toby suddenly stood up in a fluid motion, and the room seemed to collectively inhale.  He could so easily tug at their emotions.  For all that they liked to pretend to be cerebral, they could be just as emotional as any Gryffindor or Hufflepuff.  With his height, Toby towered over the dark-haired first year.  It never hurt to make use of one’s physical presence to affect others.  But in this case, he wasn’t planning to use the advantage of height.  He had other things in mind.  The little Potter maintained eye contact, looking up at him coldly.  She lifted her chin up the slightest degree, and gave him a look that any pureblood wizard worth their salt would recognize: a look that spoke of pride, certainty and fearlessness.  It was kind of cute.  Like a fluffy lap dog trying to go against a moon wolf.

 

The thought of it made Toby smile, and he made no effort to reign in his expression.  He tried not to smile too openly, too often.  At least, not genuine smiles.  It had a tendency to daze people, making them weak and soft in the head.  It made things too easy.  Toby was aware of the power of appearances. He just didn’t want to rely on it too often.  But, in this case, it might be a good lesson for an innocent little Eaglet.  She was expecting insults, so why not confuse her senses with something else.  Something  _ kinder.   _ The little Potter’s eyes widened slightly, and there was a flash of uncertain fear.  Good.  At least she was smart enough to know that she was out of her depth.  But it never hurt to stamp that message harder into her psyche.  

 

He bent over, resting his hands lightly on his knees, so that he was at eye-level with her.  His face was inches away from hers, but she did not back away.  It was good that she was willing to pretend to be brave.  It meant that this wouldn’t be too boring for him.  This close to her, he could see the flecks of green and yellow in her hazel eyes.  He felt like chuckling.  He liked seeing the emotions in the hazel depths.  Confusion, uncertainty.  The moment of awareness when she realized that this was more than she could handle.  And the way she held herself firm, and refused to back away, even though her instincts were screaming at her to run.

 

  “You’re adorable,” he said, his voice warm like honey and rich with amusement.  The young Potter’s eyes widened and her nostrils flared.  Mm - yes.  A little more fear now.  It was evident that she had steeled herself for insults.  But she hadn’t created a shield against this.

 

  “What’s your game, Woodbridge?” the girl asked.

 

  ‘Your innocent little mind,’ he thought.  Instead, he said:  “Game?” His voice was light, his eyes, to the uninitiated would have seemed clear and guileless.  Little Potter narrowed her eyes at him.

 

  “Don’t play dumb with me.  I don’t buy your act.  I’m not like the rest of your worshippers.  I see you for who you are.”  Ah, at least the girl had her false bravado to fall back on - perhaps she should have been sorted into Gryffindor like her amusing brother.

 

  “Oh?  And who am I, little Eaglet?” Toby asked.  He wasn’t particularly curious.  He could see the dislike in her flashing eyes, and the way her hands were tightened into fists.

 

  “You’re a bully,” Primrose said, her voice flat.  “A small-minded, cruel-hearted bully who can’t even do his own dirty work.  And a fake at that.”  He had been expecting something like this, and wondered at the intelligence of someone who would announce such a thing in front of all his so-called ‘minions.’  The Ravenclaws in the common room all seemed to gasp in shock.  He could sense their indignation on his behalf.  It made him want to sigh.  It wasn’t as though her assessment was inaccurate - frankly, he knew he could be a bully.  If he didn’t have people’s lives to mess with, he’d have died of boredom long ago.  But if they were his minions, at least they were loyal.  He wondered how well the little firstie would take their attacks.

 

Toby didn’t bother to straighten up, and take advantage of his towering height.  He just examined her face, unable to help the small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.  He didn’t exactly want the other Ravenclaws to tear her apart.  Something like that would end the game prematurely.  But at the same time, it wouldn’t hurt to test her mettle. 

 

  “You wound me, little one.”   Well, the true wound was that she couldn’t match him for wits.  But most people couldn’t.  He was used to it.

 

  “Do you even have anything to wound?” the little Potter retorted.  She seemed angry.  At him?  At her own weakness?  Perhaps both.  

 

  “Of course,” he replied with airy lightness.  Uncomfortable with his position, he straightened, and then sat with casual grace on the arm of his chair, so that his gaze could remain level with hers.  He still wore his hint of a smile.  He knew he couldn’t entirely keep the mockery from his expression, but then again, why hide it?  They were silent for a moment, examining one another.

 

  “This is ridiculous,” she said finally, trying to grasp the reins,  “What matters is how everyone in this house is treating Luna.  I want it to stop.  Now.”

 

  “Hmm.”  What to do next?  He could see that she would be easy to fluster, but at the same time, he didn’t want to make this all about her.  It could prove to be amusing to tangle up the minds of the other Ravenclaws as well.  He felt no real hesitation about turning on the other Ravenclaws.  Other Houses might value unity and loyalty, but here at Ravenclaw, strength was in one’s wits.  If he meant to remain unpredictable, he might as well try something that he hadn’t before.

 

  ““Alright,” he drawled with honey smoothness. “I’ll see to it that the Ravenclaws leave your friend alone.  If-”

 

  “If what?” Primrose asked.  She looked nervous, but determined.  

 

 “If-” Toby said with lazy amusement, “you kiss me.  Right here.”  He turned his face, and pointed to his cheek, and his smile as he looked at her was playful, daring, with that touch of unfathomable irony.  In all honesty, he didn’t particularly care to be touched.  But as much as he disliked it, he could tell that she would hate it more.  Especially having to touch him.  Plus, it would probably confound his poor little ‘minions.’  This could be fun.

 

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

 

Rosie was frozen in shock.  She couldn’t help thinking that Toby was terrible - really very terrible.  She was accustomed to the straightforward ways of Harry and Sirius.  They would play and tease - but this was different.  Toby was playing, but the game was beyond her depth, and she didn’t like it.  Unbeknownst to her, many of the females in Ravenclaw, but especially Marietta and Sarah were smoldering with indignation mixed with a burning hot jealousy.  ‘How dare that little upstart first year!’ they thought. ‘How dare she approach Toby, and speak as if she were his equal.  I’m going to rip that little bitch to pieces.’  And yet, at the same time, they were filled with yearning.  Some small part of them thought ‘I wish I was her.  I wish I was in that position’ and they only hated themselves for thinking that way.

 

As for Rosie, she knew she had to act.  She felt sick to her stomach but Toby was looking at her expectantly.  The whole common room was dead silent.  Feeling as stiff as a board, she took a step forward and leaned in, brushing her lips against his cheek before pulling away, as though stung.  Rosie’s expression was angry but controlled.  He had made her kiss him, and yet, she was the one who felt violated.  Toby gave her a lazy smile.

 

  “Thank you, little Eaglet.  I imagine that everyone will leave Luna alone from now on.”  Toby straightened up, and just when she thought her ordeal was over, he reached over and ruffled her hair in a horrible parody of affection.  

 

  “I’ll see you around, little one,” Toby said with a warm laugh in his voice.  Nodding once, Rosie pursed her lips and then turned away, heading up into the sanctuary of her dorm.  Toby watched her every step as she departed.  As for Rosie, she imagined that  before long, her dorm room would no longer be a sanctuary any more.

 

Toby was as good as his word.  Though the rest of the students in Hogwarts still called Luna ‘Loony,’ (It was too catchy to forget)  the Ravenclaws had ceased their attack upon Luna.  This was, in part, because Rosie had decided to draw their fire towards herself.  If looks could kill, she would have already died a thousand times over.  Marietta and Sarah especially seemed to look at her as though they were mentally saying the  _ Cruciatus _ torture curse over and over in their heads.

 

Luna had appeared vaguely troubled by the situation.  Though she sometimes could be oblivious to what was going on around her, she knew that Rosie had done something to try and help her.  Luna hated to see her friend in trouble, but she did not know what to do.  As for Romulus, his reaction was startling.  Soon after the incident with Toby in the common room (which he had witnessed with horror), Romulus had grabbed Rosie by the arm during one of their free periods.  He had yanked her up multiple flights of stairs and along the corridors without explanation.  He pulled her to the left and stopped in a long corridor.  All she could see was a large tapestry of what looked like Trolls with their hands above their heads.  On top of that they had a single leg held at an awkward angle in the air.  Romulus had released her arm was pacing the corridor back and forth.

 

Suddenly, a door appeared opposite the Tapestry.  Romulus pulled open the door, and reaching for her, he pulled her into the room.

 

She looked around the room - if it could be called that.  It just looked like another corridor, and she could see a doorway and a turn further up ahead.

 

Romulus shut the door behind them and turned to face Rosie.  He crossed his arms, and his eyes had an icy rage in them.

 

  “What in Merlin’s name is wrong with you?” he said, his voice almost an angry hiss.  “What were you thinking, confronting Woodbridge?”

 

Rosie scowled at him.  “Luna is my friend.  I wasn’t just going to let the rest of the Ravenclaws keep attacking her.  I had to do something!”

 

  “Doing something doesn’t mean you have to turn all the eyes of the Ravenclaws on yourself!  You could have learned to better protect yourself and your friend.  You could have trained yourself!”  Romulus huffed in frustration.  “Do you have any idea what position you’ve put yourself in?”

 

 “As a matter of fact, I do!” Rosie replied frostily, though in truth, she felt much more lost than she cared to admit.  “You really think I’m someone who is going to slink around in the shadows while my friend gets hurt?”

 

Romulus’s eyes narrowed.  “What are you suggesting?  That I’m a coward?  That all I do is slink in the shadows?”  His expression was cold and dangerous.

 

Rosie sighed angrily and looked away.  “No. No, I know you’re not.  It’s just - Luna, you know?  I had to do something.  Besides, who are you to lecture me on what I can or can’t do?”

 

  “Who am I?  Can’t you tell when someone is trying to look out for  _ you _ ?”

 

Rosie’s eyes widened as she considered what Romulus was saying.  This was the closest he had ever been to suggesting that they were actually friends. Wanting to set the animosity aside, Rosie looked away from him, and examined her surroundings instead.

 

  “What is this place anyway?” she asked.

 

  “This is the Come and Go Room,” he said.  “The House Elves told me about it.  You have put yourself-” Romulus paused and frowned.

 

  “I don’t know what kind of moon-madness was going through your mind when you did that, but you’ve put yourself in a lot of danger.  I’ve asked this room to appear like a maze - like the corridors of our school. You are going to train here.  The room has created golems that will try and attack you.  I trust that you’ve educated yourself about hexes and jinxes?”

 

Rosie nodded.  Like Romulus, she read up on offensive and defensive magic while suffering through Professor Lockhart’s class.  She had also read all about curses and jinxes back at Grimmauld place, thanks to the extensive number of books on the topic.  “But - I haven’t actually tried a lot of the hexes.”

 

Romulus nodded.  “I expected as such.  The golems will chase you then, but they will not actually attack.  That will come later.  Well.  Go on.”

 

Rosie looked at Romulus questioningly and then looked along the length of the corridor/maze.

 

  “Learn by doing,” Romulus said simply. “If you don’t move, then I’ll hex you.  Now Go.  Go!”  Rosie’s eyes widened, and she dashed down the corridor, turning a corner, and then turning another.  Before long, she was disoriented and had lost her sense of direction.

 

The golems that chased her were unexpectedly unpredictable.  Some were noisy with obvious footsteps, some were quiet.  Rosie tried multiple jinxes and hexes for the first time in her life.  Many of them misfired or failed on the first attempt.  Some that worked were rather dramatic (like the one that blasted one of the golem’s to smithereens).  Some seemingly had no effect.

 

Though she knew that the golems would not attack her, it was still set her heart racing, to be chased and hunted down like a hare.  Throughout her entire session, she didn’t even catch sight of Romulus once.

 

During the short lulls, when she felt that she had moment to catch her breath, she wondered if she would be trapped in this maze forever.  How did this room even work, anyway?  Was she only allowed out once she found the exit?  But before she could finish her train of thoughts, a golem had snuck up on her.  She almost squealed in surprise and managed to throw a tripping jinx at it before she dashed away, turning one corner, and then opening one of the doors that led to - well, more corridors.

 

However, after an hour, the corridor walls eventually disappeared.  Romulus had planned the room that way, so that the situation that worried Rosie (being trapped in a maze forever) wouldn’t happen.  She found herself standing in an empty rectangular room, and across the way, still standing by the door was Romulus, his arms crossed, and his expression, evaluating.

 

  “You survived,” he said.  Rosie frowned, through her heavy breaths.

 

  “Were you not expecting me to survive?  You said the golems wouldn’t attack!”  Romulus simply smirked.

 

  “We’ll meet here every Friday and Sunday at 3o’clock,” he ordered.  Rosie nodded in response.  Though Romulus’s words and methods were harsh, she knew that he was acting as a friend.


	11. Chapter 11

Later in the week, Rosie met up with Harry to call Sirius.  Harry had been chatting with Nearly Headless Nick before she found him.  The ghost often seemed to be in Harry’s company these days - especially since Harry had gone to the deathday party.

 

  “I bid you adieu, Harry!” The ghost said, once he spotted Rosie.  He left with an elegant bow.

 

  “Talk to you later, Sir Nicholas!” Harry replied with a smile.

 

Once the ghost had departed, Rosie spoke. “He’s seems to like you a lot.”

 

Harry smiled. “Yeah, Sir Nicholas is great.  I really got to know him well since his deathday party.”   

 

As for Rosie, she had been getting regular letters from Remus at this point, and wanted to share the news.  And concerning the issue of Toby - well, there was no reason to bring that matter up.  She wanted to deal with it on her own.  There was no reason to worry Sirius or Harry.  Plus, speaking to Sirius always made her feel better.  Harry and Rosie found a quiet corner to sit, and Rosie pulled out the rectangular mirror.  “Sirius,” she called into it.  His face appeared, almost immediately.  He was looking rather disheveled.

 

   “Padfoot, did you just wake up?” Rosie asked as she scanned his face.  His eyelids were drooping and his hair was a mess.

 

  “Errm - What time is it pups?”

 

  “It’s nearly 3 o’clock!” Harry exclaimed.  “I swear, you’re getting worse.”

 

  “Uuhh - It’s too early for a lecture,” Sirius groaned.

 

  “You know, I think you’re the one who is supposed to be lecturing us, and not the other way around,” Rosie informed him.

 

  “At this rate, he’s going to be nocturnal soon,” Harry said to Rosie.  She grinned and nodded.

 

  “Hey, don’t talk about me like I’m not here,” Sirius said.

 

  “Knowing your mental faculties before you’ve had your coffee, I don’t think you really are here, Padfoot,” Rosie said, cheekily.

 

  “Coffee….” Sirius muttered.  He looked away from the mirror.  “Kreacher!  Get me a coffee!  Now!”

 

  “Coffee in bed?” Rosie asked.

 

  “It’s like he’s given up on life,” Harry said to her, in mock mournfulness.

 

  “Did you just get dumped or something, Padfoot?” Harry asked his godfather.

 

  “Aaah!  What did I ever do, to deserve being saddled with such brats!” Sirius moaned, staring up at his ceiling before looking back down.   “And by the way, I’ve never been dumped.”

 

  “Hmm.” Rosie replied.

 

  “If you say so,” said Harry.

 

  “Enough about me!  How are you two pups?”

 

Rosie looked at Harry.  “He’s changing the topic.  I think we’ve touched a sensitive spot.”  Harry nodded sagely.

 

  “Pups!” Sirius exclaimed.  “I’m right here.  Look.  I’m drinking my coffee.  I’m awake now.”

 

Harry and Rosie gave him twin grins.  Sirius sipped his coffee and glared at them.

 

  “How are classes?” Sirius asked.

 

  “Good.  Professor Snape has me working alone on my potions now,” Rosie informed him.

 

  “What?” Sirius exclaimed.  “Is he punishing you?”

 

Rosie shook her head.  “No!  You have it all wrong.  Rom - my lap partner - Professor Snape has him working on special projects because he’s so far ahead.”

 

  “Snivellus is giving someone special projects?”

 

Rosie sighed and shook her head.  “That isn’t a very nice nickname, Sirius.”

 

  “Who says I’m trying to be nice?”  Sirius grinned evilly.

 

  “Snape’s not so bad,” Harry said.  “Once you’re doing well in his class, he just leaves you alone.”

 

  “Harry!” Sirius exclaimed.  “I thought you were on my side.”  Sirius looked like he was pouting, and it was hard not to giggle at his expression.

 

  “Let’s - not talk about Professor Snape, okay?  We’ll just have to agree to disagree,” Rosie said, placatingly.

 

  “I don’t recall ever making such an agreement,” Sirius muttered.  Harry rolled his eyes, and Rosie grinned.  Sometimes it seemed like Sirius stopped growing up once he reached the age of fifteen.

 

  “So -” Rosie looked at Harry and then Sirius.  “I have some news.”

 

  “Oh?” Harry asked, while Sirius looked at her inquiringly.

 

  “I’ve been writing to Remus,” she announced.

 

  “He’s been writing you back?” Harry asked, startled.  “He wrote me back once, and then I never heard from him again!”

 

  “Remus?” Sirius was saying, and expression of surprise on his face.  “Remus - Lupin?”

 

  “What other Remus would I be talking about?  And yes, he has been writing me back,” Rosie said to Sirius and then Harry.

 

  “What - What is he even saying to you?  Remus - I can’t believe it.  What’s Moony up to these days?” Sirius seemed to be in slight shock.  He had long given up on ever hearing from his old friend again, despite his numerous attempts to reach out to him.

 

  “Well, he did ask me if you ever settled down,” Rosie said to Sirius.

 

  “Ha!  What did you tell him?

 

  “Oh - I said that no one would have you,” Rosie replied innocently before breaking out into a grin.  Harry chuckled with amusement.

 

  “Sounds about right,” Harry said.  “So -”  He paused.  “Did he ever tell you why he disappeared?  Where did he go?”  

 

Rosie furrowed her brow and bit her lower lip.  After a moment, she explained to Sirius and Harry about how Remus had blamed himself for what had happened to their parents.  Harry and Sirius listened, their expressions surprised and then thoughtful.  When Rosie finished explaining, they were silent for a moment.

 

  “I didn’t realize he felt that way,” Sirius said.  “I should have guessed, of course.  But - with everything that was happening -” Sirius frowned, as his memories turned to sadder times.

 

 “I’ll try writing him again,” Harry said softly.  Rosie nodded.

 

The spoke for a little while longer, Harry about Quidditch, and Sirius about some of his prank projects.

 

  “Have you had a chance to use the tattoo prank yet?” Sirius was asking Harry.  It was one of Sirius’s projects that was still unreleased to the public.  Sirius always like to give either Rosie or Harry his prototypes to try out.

 

  “Contrary to what you think, I don’t really go around pranking people all day,” Harry replied, rolling his eyes.  Sirius pouted.

 

  “Spoil sport,” he muttered.

 

  “Which one was this again?” Rosie asked.  Sirius had so many prototypes that it could be hard to keep track.  Some were simply works in progress.  Other projects just didn’t seem to turn out ‘right’ and were set aside for another day.  And some, well, Sirius was very particular about which ones he brought to market.  (“I have standards, you know,” he had once informed her, when she asked why so many of his projects just sat in his workshop rather than on the shelves of Zonko’s Joke Shop).

 

Sirius broke into a wide grin.  He loved discussing his projects.  “It comes in the form of a clear potion.  You discretely dab a spot the liquid on your target’s skin - even just a drop will do.  Then, when the perfect time arises (such as an important dinner party), you say your keyword, and an ever-expanding tattoo forms on your target’s skin.  I have three models so far: The kitten model, where a kitten chases an endless ball of yarn, until the target ends up looking like they’ve been wound up in yarn; The puppy model, where a puppy leaves muddy paw prints all over the target’s body until they look like they’re covered in mud; and, my favourite, the spider model, where a spider spins webs all over the target’s body, and hatches little baby spiders.  By the end, you look like a creepy crawly mass of black and brown.”

 

  “Eeww” Rosie’s face was scrunched up in disgust at the idea of being covered in spiders, even if they were only tattoos, and not real spiders.  “Well - the first two models sound - cute.” She usually tried to say something positive about Sirius’s projects.  Though in truth, most of them were a lot of fun - as long as you weren’t the victim (or as Sirius called them, “targets”).  Rosie always thought ‘victim’ was a more apt descriptor.

“It is cute,” Harry said with a grin.  “Sirius tested the tattoo on me.  But that was in the early stages, so it only lasted an hour.  The yarn and the paw prints look really real too!  It isn’t cartoon-y at all.  But - the yarn was also pink and purple.  It would definitely be embarrassing for a bloke.”

 

  “So how long does it last now?” Rosie asked.

 

  “About twenty-four hours,” Sirius replied proudly.  “So why haven’t you used it, Harry?  I made the spider version especially for you, so you could use it on that Weasley boy that you kept complaining about last year.”

 

  “When I told you that Ron had a fear of spiders, I meant a mortal terror.  Not a minor bit of uneasiness.  I might not be friends with the git, but I don’t want to traumatize him either,” Harry replied, rolling his eyes.  “And besides, Ron isn’t that bad.  It’s Seamus that’s worse.”

 

Sirius shook his head and sighed.  “So prank Seamus!  You’re too nice, pup.”

 

  “Well, considering that you’re hardly a model of shining virtue, Padfoot, I think Harry turned out pretty well,” Rosie told Sirius.

 

  “I’ll have you know, I’m quite proud of my wickedness,” Sirius replied to Rosie.  “Oh!  Pup!  Are you still researching animagi?”

 

  “Not so much these days.  I’ve read every book I could find on it.  I am thinking of starting the process over the summer,” Rosie admitted.

 

  “That’s my girl!” Sirius said with a pleased grin.  “But anyway, when you mentioned animagi, it gave me an idea for a new project.”

 

 “Oh?”

 

 “It’ll be a new candy,” Sirius explained enthusiastically.  “When the candy gets eaten, the target will end up with the ears and tail of their animagus form - or if they’re not interested in learning their animagus form, it’ll show their patronus.”  Rosie’s eyes sparkled with excitement.

 

 “That’s actually an amazing idea!  Oh!  I wish I knew what my patronus and animagus form would be.”

 

 “That is a really good idea, Padfoot,” Harry said with a grin that mirrored Rosie’s.  “Send me some when you’ve finished the project!”

 

 “Don’t I always?” Sirius replied.  “It’s in the early stages yet.  But I expect it’ll be a best seller.”

 

 “Modest as ever,” Rosie added with a slight smirk.  Yet, she couldn’t help but be proud of Sirius.  He truly had a talent for creative and interesting pranks.

 

Rosie met up with Madam Pomfrey every Tuesday and Friday evening to observe the matron as she worked.  If there were no students, Madam Pomfrey explained the theory behind healing, or showed Rosie the wand work and explained the incantation of various spells.  It wasn’t a true apprenticeship - it was more more accurate to say it was a pre-apprenticeship.  Nonetheless, Rosie welcomed the opportunity.  This particular Friday, Madam Pomfrey was telling Rosie about basic diagnosis spells.  Basic diagnostic spells were the type that only told you about the patient’s current conditions.  There were many other types of diagnostic spells such as those that could tell you a patient’s medical history, or certain detailed diagnostic spells that focused on certain maladies.

 

  “Casting a basic diagnosis spell is relatively easy.  The incantation is _egritudo_ , and the wand movement is like this.” Madam Pomfrey moved her wand in a smooth, wavy pattern.  They were seated side by side in the matron’s office in the medical wing, next to the cupboard that contained the store of healing potions.  Aside from the two petrified students, the Hospital wing was currently empty.  Rosie had her books in front of her, as well as parchment and her quill in her hands, for note-taking.

 

  “In fact, for the next student that comes in, I’ll have you cast the diagnosis spell on them, just to see how it feels.  The good thing about diagnosis spells is that if you do it wrong, it will have no effect on either you or the patient.  The true challenge in diagnosis spells is understanding what they mean.  It can take extensive training to make sense of what the diagnosis charm conveys.  Most healers spend years on this aspect of their training.  Occasionally, I still have trouble making sense of what the magic in a diagnosis spell is trying to tell me - particularly in the case of rare ailments and diseases.  You’re lucky to be getting an early start.”  Madam Pomfrey smiled indulgently.  

 

Rosie nodded, absorbing all of Madam Pomfrey’s words.  “I read a little about it in that new book you gave me.  It mentioned that most beginners start by using basic diagnosis spells to discern different genders.  Can you explain how the diagnosis spell communicates?”

 

  “Diagnosis spells create a mental image in your head composed of colours and shapes,” Madam Pomfrey explained.  “This is combined with sensations in your own body.  This makes localized injuries easier to find.  Especially if the patient is unconscious.”  Rosie nodded, as her quill flew across her parchment, taking notes.

 

 “On top of that, the diagnosis spell conveys the patient’s status with a number of colours, which mean different things.  Red, for example, indicates pain.  Green can indicate a viral infection.  Bright green indicates a magical infection, whereas a dull green indicates a muggle infection.  The intensity of the green indicates the extent of the infection.  Intensity is sometimes easier felt than seen.  Different shades of green can enable you to pinpoint the family of the virus, but this is a skill that takes years of training to learn.”  Rosie was wide-eyed as the matron lectured.  It was remarkable, how complex the art of diagnosing was.

 

  “Blue indicates bacterial infections.  As with viral infections, bright blue suggests magical infections, and intense blues tell you the extent.  Poisoning is usually indicated by brown.  Pay special attention to the sensations in your body as well - for example, if a student has been bitten by a poisonous spider, you will feel on your own body, where that bite is.  This can tell you whether a poison has been ingested, or whether it has entered the patient’s body through other means.  Infections of the blood tend to make your entire body feel a tingly heat.  Likewise, if any infection is located in an organ, you will feel a tingly heat in your own body, where that organ is located, even if the patient cannot feel it themselves.  Many liver infections are painless to the patient, but you will feel a tingling in the location of your liver.”  Madam Pomfrey paused for a moment, looking over Rosie’s notes to make sure she was able to keep up.

 

  “Mental illnesses can be a little more challenging to understand,” the matron continued, once she was satisfied with Rosie’s notes.  “They usually occur in shades of silver or grey.  They can feel different as well - almost like a fogginess in your own mind.  They can be differentiated from headaches, which have a more jagged sensation, and of course, headaches are also red, to indicate the pain.  As for the shapes you will see in your mind - well, that component of diagnostics is quite advanced.  The shapes tend to communicate the specifics of how the disease interacts with the particular witch or wizard.    Ah - but I should be telling you about differentiating genders.  That way, when you try the diagnosis charm on the first patient, you will know what to expect.”  Rosie felt a flush of excitement.  While she did not want to see any students getting hurt, she was eager to try the spell for herself.

 

  “Discerning between genders is something that is felt, and not seen,” Madam Pomfrey explained.  “You will feel it in the genital region.”  Rosie’s cheeks flushed, but if Madam Pomfrey was aware, she paid no heed.  The matron was used to the squeamish, easily embarrassed nature of school children.  To her, patients were patients, and Madam Pomfrey tended to take a no nonsense approach.  

 

  “For females, the sensation is more internal.  It will not be tingly - any tingly feeling is indicative of a problem.  You will simply feel something there.  It is difficult to describe, but you’ll soon understand.  For males, the sensation will be more external.  It may seem strange, at first, but you’ll quickly become used to it.  If the student is healthy, you will feel nothing from the diagnosis spell except their gender.  If the problem is minor, and it usually is, you will feel something very faint, like a light tingling.  In the case of physical fatigue that is not quite painful, you will perceive a very faint sense of redness.”  Rosie nodded.  Her embarrassment was fading slightly, in the face of Madam Pomfrey’s calmness.  She thought that casting her first diagnosis spell would probably feel weird, but she was looking forward to it.

 

Madam Pomfrey explained a little more about the different colours of diagnosis spells, when they were interrupted by a student entering the infirmary.

 

  “Madam Pomfrey?” The student called out.  It was one of the older Hufflepuffs - someone she didn’t recognize.

 

  “Right here, dear,” the matron said.  She stood up from the desk, and exited the office, greeting the student.  “Headache again, Miss Pocklington?”  The Hufflepuff girl nodded, a hand resting on her brow while her expression looked pained.

 

 “Come this way,” Madam Pomfrey said to Miss Pocklington, leading the girl towards one of the beds.  “I’m training a new possible apprentice Miss Pocklington.  This is Miss Potter,” Madam Pomfrey gestured to Rosie, who was following the matron. Miss Pocklington sat down on the bed, and looked from Madam Pomfrey to Rosie.

 

  “Hello,” said Rosie politely.

 

  “Hi,” Miss Pocklington replied, and then winced.

 

  “Miss Potter is learning about diagnostic spells.  She’ll be casting a diagnosis spell on you.  It won’t hurt a bit.  Meanwhile, I’ll go get you your potion.”  Madam Pomfrey wandered off to the potions cupboard, leaving Rosie with the Hufflepuff girl.

 

 “I’ll be casting it now.  Don’t worry, you won’t feel anything,” Rosie told the girl, feeling like she had to say something, before waving her wand at her.  The Hufflepuff girl nodded slightly, but the movement seemed to pain her.

 

  “ _Egritudo_ ,” she called out, as she waved her wand in a smooth undulating motion.  She felt the diagnosis charm work almost immediately.  In her temple, she ‘saw’ and felt a tingly redness that had a jagged quality.  In her lower pelvis, she felt an odd sensation - it reminded her of her emotional link with Harry - it was like an image superimposed upon another image.  Not painful, or tingly, but something that was just ‘there.’  Curiously, she could also sense the girl’s emotions, in the same place that she felt Harry’s emotions.  In the back of her head and neck, she felt the girl’s stress and anxiety - it seemed her headache was likely caused from those feelings.  Perhaps the workload she was under was too heavy?  Rosie couldn’t really guess.  The rest of her felt ‘blank’ which suggested that the Hufflepuff was otherwise healthy.

 

Madam Pomfrey soon returned with the girl’s headache potion.

 

  “Here you go, dear.  Drink up now!”  The Hufflepuff took the potion gratefully and drank the bitter brew in a single gulp.  Still feeling the residual effects of the diagnostics spell, Rosie felt the redness fading away.  She couldn’t help but smile, and Miss Pocklington smiled in return.

 

  “Thank you, Madam Pomfrey,” she said to the matron.  Rosie looked over at the girl.  She could still feel the edge of stress in the back of her head, but when the pain had faded, the stress lessened.

 

  “Nice to meet you Miss Potter,” the girl said.  “Good luck with your apprenticeship.”

 

  “Nice to meet you too,” Rosie replied with a happy smile.  “Thank you for letting me try the diagnosis spell on you.  You’re perfectly healthy!  Just, a little stressed.”  Miss Pocklington smiled wanly.

 

When Miss Pocklington left the Hospital wing, Madam Pomfrey smiled proudly at Rosie.

 

  “Well done, Miss Potter!  It worked on your first try?”  

 

Rosie nodded happily.  “It was just like you said!  I could feel that she was a girl.  And I could see and feel the redness in her temple.  It started to fade away when she drank the potion.  I could also feel that she was stressed.”

 

Madam Pomfrey looked at Rosie oddly. “Feel that she was stressed?  How so?”

 

  “Well, I felt it in the back of my head and neck.  It just felt like she was stressed out.  Perhaps from school work?”  Rosie looked up at Madam Pomfrey questioningly.  Madam Pomfrey had a slight frown on her face, though it wasn’t an expression of disapproval.  More of an expression of curiosity.

 

  “The diagnostic charm shouldn’t tell you what students are feeling emotionally, unless those emotions cross over into more extreme states such as depression or mania, which would then manifest as greys or silvers,” Madam Pomfrey explained.  “Perhaps you were just feeling your own stress?  From trying the charm for the first time?”

 

Rosie bit her lower lip, but didn’t contradict the matron.  Whatever it was she felt, it was very similar to the link she felt with Harry.  Perhaps it was as the matron said, or perhaps it was some odd fluke.  She wouldn’t be able to know for sure until she tried the diagnosis charm on another student.

 

It was late November, and Rosie was in the Great Hall for dinner.  As usual, she was sitting next to Romulus and Luna.  Other students were still making their way into the Hall and finding their seats, and the Hall was a low hum of conversation and laughter as the students wound down for the evening.

 

Most of the teachers were already at the Head Table.  She could see Professor Lockhart animatedly talking to Professor Snape, and while it was amusing to see Snape’s pained expression, she also felt a stab of sympathy.  It was amazing that the Professor even came to the Great Hall at all - if she were Snape, she would have just taken meals in her room a long, long time ago.

 

She could see Professor Flitwick having a discussion with Professor Kettleburn, the Care of Magical Creatures teacher.  She and the other first years wouldn’t have that class until third year, however.  Whatever they were saying seemed to amusing Professor Flitwick because his chortling caused him to nearly fall out of his chair.  Rosie grinned - Professor Flitwick was definitely one of her favourite teachers.  He was like a walking bundle of good humour.

 

Toby and the rest of the Triad weren't yet at the Ravenclaw table, though Marietta and Sarah were seated.  The girls were currently ignoring her, but then again, they were more likely to attack her from the shadows than out in the open.  She hated the way she now wasted effort looking out for Toby.  She hated the way she was more aware of him than ever.  It made her feel weak - like the other Ravenclaws that couldn’t keep their eyes off of him, even if her reasons were different.

 

  “Have you started experimenting with any charms yet?  You mentioned last time that you thought you were ready to attempt something soon.” Rosie said to Luna, to distract herself from worrying about Toby.  This was a discussion the pair of them had been having for a while.  Both of them already knew the first year material, and it was more fun to speculate on trying something new.  However, most of their discussion had thus far been limited to theory.  Moreover, Rosie tried to be sensitive, knowing that Luna’s mother had died in a magical experiment.

 

  “A little with the _Lumos_ charm,” Luna said in her dreamy voice.  Rosie nodded.  It seemed like one of the first year charms with greater potential for experimenting with.  She herself had tried changing the colour of the light, but when the tip of her wand began to smoke, she quickly stopped.  She certainly had no inclination to set her wand on fire.  Though in theory, Rosie was able to grasp some of the concept of experimental charms, in practice, she had never yet succeeded.

 

  “I was trying to change the shape of the light.  It was becoming a bit oblong, but then the wrackspurts started distracting me and I had to stop,” Luna continued.  

 

  “You got it to work?” Rosie asked in admiration.  Luna nodded, smiling dreamily.  As for Edine and Sakiko, they smirked condescendingly, rolling their eyes when they heard Luna’s references to wrackspurts.  Though the attacks on Luna had largely stopped, Edine and Sakiko still caused Luna mischief in small ways.

 

  “I was reading a book on different ways to channel magic,” Rosie started to explain.  “That is, alternatives to using visualizations, such as channeling other imagined senses, such as one’s sense of touch or hearing.  For example, if you wanted to cast _incendio_ then rather than visualizing a flame, you would try instead to hear it - the crackling of sparks, for example, or to imagine it’s heat.  It was largely theoretical of course - and many spells are largely visual.  Still, it’s such a-”

 

Rosie was so engaged in the discussion, that she did not pay heed to Romulus nudging his elbow into her side.  However, when she felt a hand ruffling her hair, she froze, as stiff as a pillar of ice.

 

  “Hello little one,” said Toby in his honey warm voice.  He had just entered the Great Hall, flanked by his two friends.  Rosie could hear Edine and Sakiko sigh enviously.  Couldn’t those two at least try for subtlety?  They were complete idiots for thinking that Toby’s attention was even remotely enjoyable.

 

Rosie turned in her seat and looked up at Toby.  As usual, his smile was charming and warm but it was a warmth that veiled a dark irony.  Since the day she had confronted him, he had been doing something like this, almost every time they crossed paths.  It was as though he wanted to constantly remind her that he was in control, and that she was just a little mouse that only lived so long as she entertained him.  What made it more difficult was that his actions were a textbook example of friendliness, so that if she reacted in anger, it made her look irrational and insane.  Often he would just ruffle her hair.  Sometimes, he’d give her a light, and playful flick on the forehead.  Other times, instead of sitting in his usual chair in the common room, he’d come over to her chair, and prop himself against the armrest, wearing that ever-mocking smile, while examining whatever she was reading.

 

Sometimes he was alone, and other times, he was flanked by Samir and Christopher, who usually gave her unreadable expressions.  A few times, Samir even looked at her with something like pity.  It only made her feel all that much worse.  She felt as though she should have gotten used to it by now, and while she was able to act calm, she never felt calm.  Thank goodness Toby couldn’t enter her dorm room, or she’d never have a moment’s peace.

 

Up the table, Marietta and Sarah were giving her their usual _crucio-_ eyes.  It was surprising that the air didn’t crackle due to their passionate hate.  Unlike the incident with Luna, many of the Ravenclaws were fairly divided when it came to Rosie.  Toby’s behaviour confused them.  Some of the Ravenclaws she had never spoken to before were suddenly very friendly to her.  Others, like Marietta and Sarah looked at her like they were plotting a hundred ways to fillet her alive.  The reaction of the other Ravenclaws was a little stressful - the hexes that got thrown at her were certainly much, much more dangerous than simple tripping jinxes, and without Romulus’s insistence on learning self-defense, she certainly would have ended up in the hospital wing multiple times over.  Not that Rosie was particularly good at self-defensive spells - but she had quickened her reflexes, and she was good at dodging.  Being raised with Sirius also helped in that regard.

 

As it was, only one incident was bad enough that it warranted a visit to the infirmary.  Once there, Rosie had asked Madam Pomfrey if she could do the diagnosis charm on herself.  The matron just rolled her eyes, and told her she needed to stay out of trouble and get some bed rest.  Even with the increased viciousness of attacks, Rose suddenly had more Ravenclaws looking out for her as well.  Such was the life of being Toby’s newest toy.  At best, all she could manage was to pretend the situation was normal, and pretend it didn’t bother her at all.

 

Rosie’s eyes were cool as she looked up at Toby.  It took all her efforts (and constant reminders of _blank and empty, blank and empty_ to maintain that coolness).  She didn’t want him to know how much his actions bothered her.  She wanted to act like she didn’t care about him at all.  She wanted him to believe that she wasn’t afraid of the cat-like predator that lay within him..

 

  “Hello, Woodbridge,” she said, her tone polite, pasting a fake smile on her face.  “Are you having a good evening?”

 

  “Such a polite little Eaglet!” he exclaimed with a grin.  “And yes, seeing you always brightens my day.”  

 

Rosie’s eyes narrowed at him, and then she suddenly mentally kicked herself for showing him any sort of reaction at all.  Toby just laughed, pleased to have riled her up, even if it was just the slightest bit.

 

  “I’ll see you later, little one,” he said with a playful, mocking grin, before gliding off to sit with the other fourth years.  His movements were disturbingly graceful.  Rosie refused to watch him walk off, so she turned back to her plate.  Next to her, Romulus was watching Toby coldly, as though guarding against another sneak attack.  Luna, for whatever reason, seemed to be busy organizing the utensils into a runic shape that Rosie didn’t recognize.

 

They were distracted by the appearance of food on the table.  It was the usual delicious Hogwarts fare.  Rosie grabbed some rosemary roasted chicken, some broccoli and a pretty bread roll, tied in an intricate looking knot.  Food usually settled her mood - unlike Harry, who stopped eating when he was anxious, she found food comforting.  As she began to eat, she considered her situation with Toby.  She knew that he made her uneasy, and that on some level, she was a bit scared of him.  On the other hand, to even have that fear was like letting him win.  She frowned into her plate.  There was no way she’d let a stupid fourth year get the best of her, even if people did think he was a genius.  She had lived with a prankster Marauder for ten years!  She could handle stupid Toby and his stupid fake-friendly act.  And even if she couldn’t, she wouldn’t go down without a fight.  She knew she had to stop being so passive about his actions.  If this was a war of ‘friendliness,’ well, she could be as friendly as the best of them.

 

She was just starting to feel relaxed (especially since the bread roll was so utterly delectable - fresh baked and steaming) when she heard a scream from one of the other tables.  Like the rest of the Great Hall, all eyes turned towards the Gryffindor table, where one of the older girls had stood up, and was frantically rubbing at her hands, as though there was something dirty she was trying to remove from her person.  

 

Suddenly, there were other cries from other Gryffindors, and then more from the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tables.  Students were standing up, and the clattering of utensils could be heard between the screams.

 

  “What’s going on?” Rosie asked, but she wasn’t alone in the question.  Everyone was looking around, confused and panicked, wondering if they should be fleeing, when she suddenly heard a cry from across the table - it was Anthony Goldstein, one of the second years.  The eyes around the Ravenclaw boy turned towards him.

 

  “Get it off me!  He was exclaiming.  Bloody hell, get it off!”  He was rubbing at his arm, his hand covering whatever dark thing was there, when suddenly, what looked like a snake was crawling up the side of his face, and biting.  Blood oozed out of the wound, leaving twin crimson trails sliding down his cheek, before the snake pulled out it’s fangs and moved on.  The girls around him were screaming - in fact, shrill screams were echoing all throughout the entire Great Hall.  The students around Anthony had quickly recoiled, not daring to be near him, lest whatever was attacking him attacked them as well.

 

The snake looked horribly real - why wasn’t Anthony reacting to the pain of the bites?  But as the Snake wriggled across his face, Rosie realized it wasn’t an actual snake - it was a tattooed image of a snake.  A horrible, cold chill ran down Rosie’s spine.  The snake kept ‘biting’ Anthony in different locations, leaving tattooed blood trails everywhere it when.  The sight was horrifying and ghastly.  Many of the students had already gotten up and were fleeing the Hall in terror.  The teachers were yelling something, but Rosie couldn’t hear their words.

 

She turned to look back at the Gryffindor Table.  Where was Harry?  This was bad - this was very bad.  These tattoos sounded just like the project Sirius had described to Rosie and Harry over their call.  However, Sirius had made no mention of a snake tattoo.  

 

Her eyes found Harry at the table.  He looked like he was completely in shock.  His eyes were wide, frightened, confused.  She could even feel his confusion and feel his fear, echoing her own.  Whatever was going on, he appeared to know nothing about it, but he did not seem to be a target of the attack.  She could see Hermione next to him, covered in snakes and blood trails.  Unlike many of the other Gryffindors, she was calm, as though aware that whatever was on her skin was just an image, just an illusion.  Her expression was almost curious and scientific, as she observed the moving patterns on her skin.  There were accusing eyes aimed at the Weasley twins, but that pair was also covered in writhing snakes, and looking as bewildered and scared as anyone else.

 

In fact, only the Slytherins acted calm.  Rosie turned and looked over at the Slytherin table.  The blondes Draco Malfoy and Astrid Rowle looked positively gleeful.  However, Luthais, Mathilda and some of the other first year Slytherins were wide-eyed and pale.  Even some of the older Slytherins looked bewildered and worried.  As she eyed the table, she saw that even one of the Slytherins had been afflicted with the tattoo.  The older Slytherin, whom she didn’t recognize, hand his head bowed downwards as though in shame.  None of the other Slytherins did anything to comfort the sole victim of the tattoo attack.

 

Suddenly, she could hear the headmaster, calling for order.  He was using the _sonorus_ charm so that he could be heard over the still panicking crowd of students.

 

  “ORDER!” Professor Dumbledore’s voice boomed.  “Students!  Gather ‘round your tables!  Your prefects will take you to your rooms!  This is just a prank!  The images on your skin will NOT hurt you!  This problem will be dealt with IMMEDIATELY, and the culprits PUNISHED!”

 

Rosie was standing up with the rest of the other Ravenclaws.  The pair of prefects looked pale - in fact, Penny herself was covered in tattoo blood trails and writing snakes.  Penny’s eyes were wide, and she could barely stop herself from trembling, but she forced herself to maintain control so that her charges wouldn’t be frightened.  Many of the Ravenclaws could barely bring themselves to look at her.  She looked like a bloody mess.  Robert Hilliard, the other prefect, took control of the situation, gathering the student around him, and keeping his voice level and calm.

 

Rosie turned to look at Romulus.  Instead of fear, his expression was oddly speculative.  Did he know something?  If he did, this was certainly not the place to speak of it.  Luna, as ever, was placid and calm.  Her expression was more curious and interested, but she did not speak.

 

The Ravenclaws silently followed Robert and Penny back to the Ravenclaw Nest.  Of the few Ravenclaws that had been victims of the malicious prank, several of them were crying.  Rosie felt that there was some sort of pattern that she hadn’t yet picked up on.  As she followed the other Ravenclaws, she thought about the Slytherins and then about the students who had been attacked.  Suddenly it clicked.  A large number of the students afflicted were muggleborns.  Some were half-bloods.  And the rest?  The Weasleys?  Ah - they were seen as blood traitors.  This realization was not at all a welcome revelation.  If anything, Rosie found herself feeling sick.  The “prank,” if one could use so mild a word was horribly, horribly malicious.  And with the fears surrounding the Heir and the Chamber of Secrets - Rosie shook her head.  There was no way that this could turn out well.  No way at all.  She did know one thing.  She had to speak to Harry, and she had to speak to Luthais and Mathilda.  Her gaze turned to Romulus.  First, she had to find out what he knew.

 

When the Ravenclaws arrived at the common room, Rosie grabbed Romulus by the arm and pulled him aside, towards the chairs where they usually sat.  Though Romulus had initially resisted this gross indignity upon his person, when Rosie turned and glared at him, he allowed himself to be pulled along.

 

  “What do you know about this?” She hissed, trying to keep her voice low, but unable to hide her tension.  To his credit, Romulus didn’t even bother to pretend ignorance as to what she was talking about.

 

  “I smelled it,” he replied, and then silently cursed himself.   _Smelled it_?  Was he trying to ruin his own secret of lycanthropy?

 

  “What do you mean?” Rosie asked, her eyes narrowed.  “How long have you smelled it for?”

 

  “Hm.  Maybe two weeks?  A bit less,” Romulus responded.  He was waiting for the inevitable confrontation about his sharp sense of smell - waiting for her to bring up the question of full moons and wolf-like instincts.

 

Instead, Rosie asked: “Do you know who did it?”  Her expression was conflicted, as though she wanted to know, but did not want to know at the same time.

 

  “I’m not precisely sure.  I first noticed it with the Slytherins.”  

 

Rosie exhaled, and looked away from him, outside the window.  “Why didn’t you mention it?”  She asked.  Then shook her head.  “Nevermind, I can guess.”  Rosie sighed heavily.

 

  “Is there anything else you know?” she asked Romulus in a tired voice.  

 

He shook his head.  But then, in the last moment, decided to add one tidbit.  “I know that the second year blond boy is one of culprits.”  

 

Rosie’s hazel-green gaze returned to his face.  She nodded and looked thoughtful.  There was no question about it.  She definitely had to speak to the Slytherins.  But Harry first.  Whether Harry knew something or knew nothing, the likeness of the prank to Sirius’s project was not something that could be ignored.

 

Rosie’s thoughts were interrupted when Professor Flitwick entered the common room, and offered the Ravenclaws words of reassurance - not that reassurance was needed.  The Ravenclaws were mostly calm and thoughtful.  One could almost see the hypotheses running through the student’s heads.

 

  “Please, if any of you know anything, do tell me immediately,” Professor Flitwick said.  “Your identity will of course remain confidential.  We don’t want to see another occurrence like this again.  My office is open to any students who are distressed and in need of someone to talk to.”

 

When he left, the Ravenclaw common room was once again abuzz with speculation.  All in all, they thought it was shaping up to be an interesting year, though Rosie found herself wishing for the peace and quiet of what she imagined a normal student’s life was like.  With everything that was happening, it was all too much.


	12. Chapter 12

The following morning at breakfast, Rosie noticed that the Great Hall was particularly empty.  Most of the students who had suffered the snake tattoo prank were not at their tables.  If the tattoos were anything like Sirius’s project, then the ghastly images would be expected to disappear by this evening.  It seemed that the teachers had been unable to remove the tattoos on their own.  The mood was subdued and troubled, and when the owls came swooping in, carrying mail and the paper, it did nothing to enliven the disquieting atmosphere.  Unsurprisingly, word had been leaked to the  _ Daily Prophet _ .  Undoubtedly, last evening's events had resulted in a flurry of worried students sending letters home to their parents.  

 

Rosie found herself wondering if this incident would result in more students being pulled from the school.  If she herself had been victim to the prank, would she want to stay?  She thought that in all likelihood, her sense of safety would have been shaken.  If she were covered in ghastly ‘bloodstains’ and wriggling snakes, and felt like the target of an act of political hatred, she probably would have wanted to go home and bury herself in Padfoot’s soft, reassuring coat of fur.  Sirius himself might not have been the most comforting and reassuring guardian, but Snuffles could always be counted on for a good cuddle.  She definitely needed to contact Sirius in the mirror later.

 

She looked over at Sakiko and Edine across the table, each of whom were holding one end of the newspaper, their heads buried in the body of the article.  The front page headlines shouted: PRANK AT HOGWARTS INSPIRES TERROR.  HAS THE HEADMASTER LOST CONTROL?  Beneath that was a picture of one of the students - a first year Gryffindor.  What was her name again?  Maisie Carter.  That was it.  When did they even have time to take this photo?  In fact, who took the photo?  

 

The photo itself was incredibly haunting.  In the moving picture, you could see the snakes writhing up and down Maisie’s arms, and occasionally across her face.  She looked like she was dripping trails of inky-dark blood.  Maisie kept peeking frightened glances up at the camera.  Her expression was wide-eyed and haunted.  Her lower lip was trembling.  The eleven year old girl somehow looked like she could be no more than eight in the photo.  Though Rosie had witnessed the prank first hand, there was something incredibly gut-wrenching about Maisie’s picture - it was a photo taken for maximum impact, certain to rile the masses into a frothing panicked rage.

 

Though the Great Hall was relatively empty, she was aware of soft, frightened susurrations all around her.  Gone was the normal cheerful hum of chatter, and in its place was uncertainty and insecurity.  Neither Harry, Neville nor Hermione were at the Gryffindor table.  In fact, almost nobody was at the Gryffindor table at all.

 

Rosie turned to face Luna.  “Do you think you’re dad will pull you out of the school?”  she asked her friend.  Luna had received a letter from her father, and had just finished reading it.  Luna’s calm gaze met Rosie’s uncertain one.

 

  “Daddy is worried - but I want to stay,” Luna replied in her light voice.  Though her tone had the same dreamy quality as ever, her expression was serious.

 

  “Will he make you leave?” Rosie asked, and though it was selfish, she did not want to lose her friend’s company.

 

Luna shook her head.  “He knows this is bad business, but he trusts in Professor Dumbledore.”

 

Rosie looked up towards the Head Table.  The teaches all looked particularly solemn.  There was no twinkle in Professor Dumbledore's eyes.  Professor Snape’s expression was completely unreadable.  Even Professor Lockhart seemed to sense that his usual blustering would be unwelcome.  Professor McGonagall wasn’t even at the table - in all likelihood, she was with the majority of the Gryffindors.  She wondered how they were faring.  Were they afraid?  Gryffindors were known for their bravery.  Perhaps they were busy plotting vengeance then, assuming they knew who the guilty party was.  Or perhaps they didn’t need to know - perhaps they saw the snakes, and that was answer enough to point to one House, and one House alone.  If this situation was not diffused, then this could potentially mean all out war between the Gryffindors and Slytherins.  Rosie suddenly and desperately hoped that Professor McGonagall was able to keep the lions’ heads on their shoulders.

 

  “Things could get bad,” Rosie murmured, unable to refrain from furrowing her brow.

 

  “Sometimes, it takes bad things happening to before you really know what you’re supposed to do,” Luna responded.  “In darkness, light shines much more brightly.”  Rosie looked back at Luna.

 

  “I hope I figure out what to do.  Right now, it all just seems like a mess.”  In response, Luna only smiled mysteriously.

 

Their first class of the day was Charms with the Gryffindors.  Several of the Gryffindors had showed up, but a large number of them were missing from class.  Professor Flitwick wasn’t his usually, good-humoured self, but considering the circumstances, it was appropriate.  Rather than learning anything new, he set them on practicing the  _ Incendio _ charm.  It was evident that none of the Gryffindors would be able to concentrate on any new material.  

 

As for the Ravenclaws, though they were always ready to learn, most of them were distracted by the recent prank.  Speculations were flying, as usual:  Was it related to the Chamber of Secrets and the Heir?  Was it a completely separate incident?  Were Death Eaters somehow behind it?  There were also the few students who were fascinated by how the tattoo itself was created.  What charms were behind it?  How did it activate all at once?  How did the prank discriminate between targets?  Who in the school had the talent and ability to create such a sophisticated prank?  The questions left Rosie squirming in her seat with discomfort.

 

The next class of the day was Potions.  Naturally, Professor Snape had no sympathy at all for the rattled emotion state of the students.  They were immediate set to work on the Burning Bitterroot Balm.  At this point, Romulus was no longer coming to Snape’s first year classes - he was working entirely independently, with the aid of the potions professor.  Rosie was at her workstation alone, but she had no desire to socialize.  As it was, it took all her effort to focus on the task at hand.  Fortunately, she wasn’t the only student who was lacking in concentration, and Professor Snape’s ire was directed elsewhere, leaving her to think in peace.

 

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

 

Severus was not proud to admit that yesterday’s events had left him shaken.  One would think that as a teacher, he would have learned to have some degree of mental and emotional immunity towards any half-witted campaign of mischief that any student could think up.  However, yesterday’s ‘prank,’ if it could even be called that skirted a little too close to his experiences of Death Eater entertainment.  True, the blood wasn’t real, and the screams were not screams of pain, but they had still been screams of terror and cries of helplessness.

 

He had been in shock from the first few panicked screams, but fortunately, his instincts from years of being a spy had kicked in before his mental faculties had caught up.  He had been on his feet, wand out and ready, scanning the hysterical crowds for the culprits, hoping to not see any of the ghastly Death Eater masks, but also knowing that hope was often futile.  His energy would be better spent on battle-readiness and strategic thinking than on hope.  It wouldn’t do to start throwing curses in a room packed full of distraught children.  In this case, however, there had been no rogue Death Eaters, come to terrorize the students.  He had felt a brief moment of relief - at least the school’s protection had held.  The idea of such a threat entering school grounds without any of the staff having any warning made his blood run cold.

 

The students were in a state of hysteria.  He could hear Minerva trying to call for order though her efforts were ineffectual.  Filius Flitwick could be heard murmuring, “oh dear, oh dear, oh dear” whilst Gilderoy, that useless lump, was hiding behind his pudding.  Whatever was happening, the Gryffindor table seemed to be the worst affected.  Many of the students there were frantically rubbing at their skin, as though they had suddenly been infected by a bad case of Rattlemite Rash.  Was there some kind of spontaneous disease affecting the student body?  It hadn’t even occurred to him that what was happening might be a prank.  As upsetting as pranks might be to the victims, usually pranks were also met with laughter.  He could hear no laughter over the screams.  

 

He looked over at his snakes filled with concern, but what he saw made eyes narrow.  The Slytherins were curiously calm.  No - more than calm - some of them looked downright gleeful.  Draco, the spoiled little scion of the noble house of Malfoy looked as though both Christmas and his birthday had come early.  The boy’s grey eyes were positively shining with rapturous delight.  Unknowingly, a growl escaped Severus’s lips.  Could the little twit be more any more obvious?  

 

Whatever was going on, it likely wasn’t serious enough to do the other students any permanent damage, and some of Severus’s tension melted, though his anger remained.  Draco could be a spiteful little brat, but he wasn’t stupid enough to do something that could get him expelled.  Though based on the other student’s frenzied state, Severus wasn’t so sure.  At least as a Slytherin, one could hope that the boy had hidden the evidence of his misdeeds.  Lucius Malfoy would string him up alive using hooks through his feet if anything were to happen to his precious little heir. 

 

Severus’s eyes scanned the rest of the Slytherins.  He frowned when he saw one of his older students, Byron Miller, looking like someone had artfully covered him in blood by pouring it out from a gravy boat, all over his face and arms.  The boy showed no indications of pain.  Fake blood then.  And what was that wriggling all over him?  Snakes?  Merlin’s balls - any hope that he had that this little incident wouldn’t be pinned on the Slytherins went flying out the window.

 

Albus’s voice suddenly rang out over the Great Hall, silencing the cries and screams.  The Headmaster’s quick eyes had missed nothing - he announced that it was just a prank, and had the prefects take the hysterical students back to their common rooms.  Like well trained crups, the students grouped together, and quietly filed out.  Minerva was following her precious Gryffindors, as protective as a mother bear.

 

Albus Dumbledore shared a look with Severus, Pomona Sprout and Filius Flitwick.  His expression was grave, and he had given Severus an extra-long glance - as though this were somehow his fault.  Severus felt a vein pop in his forehead.

 

  “Follow your students back to their rooms.   Reassure them that this is nothing serious, that it is just a prank, and see if you can find out what they know.  We will meet at my office to discuss this once the students are settled for the night,” Albus informed them, without the customary twinkle in his eye.  His expression seemed especially troubled when his eyes met with Severus’s.  Severus was not looking forward to the rest of this evening - either the talk with his students, or the talk with the headmaster.

 

Severus’s mood did not cool as he made his way from the Great Hall down to the dungeons.  If anything, his hands were balled up in tight fists, and he could imagine himself strangling the foolish little snakes that caused this night’s mayhem.  Severus’s cloak billowed behind him dramatically as he swept past the stone wall in the dungeon into the Slytherin common room.  The greenish glow of the room, made many of the students seem paler than they were.  He noticed that the chatter had immediately desisted once all eyes were on him.  Evidently, the snakes had not been in a subdued mood, like the rest of the Houses most likely were.  Severus let the silence sit and grow heavy, and some of the students shifted nervously beneath his penetrating gaze.

 

How to begin.  Severus’s eyes rested on Draco.  The boy was sitting in one of the sofas, flanked by Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle.   Draco’s expression was smug - the boy practically oozed with self-satisfaction, but when Severus’s black eyes met the grey ones, Draco began to squirm uneasily.

 

  “I was told by the headmaster to reassure you, but it seems evident to me that based on your behaviour, such a thing is unnecessary.” Severus kept his voice soft, and many of the students had to lean in to hear him.  “I was also told to try and discover what any of you may know of tonight's events.”  Severus’s eyes swept across the room, and many of his students looked away, unable to meet his stare.  Draco was almost pouting, and he kept his gaze towards one of the windows that looked out into the lake bottom.  The boy was too proud to look downwards.  Such a thing would have been beneath him.

 

  “Slytherins are known for their cunning and cleverness.  Slytherins think before they act.  As Slytherins, we take pride in who we are, and we stick to together, united against all who seek to do us harm.”  Severus’s voice was silky and soft, like the quiet slithering of a snake before it readied itself for a strike.  “So I find myself wondering, is it even possible that one or, Merlin forbid, several of my snakes would would be so foolish as to prank the student body with the image of a snake?  Could any of my Slytherins be such a complete Twit so as to turn the antagonizing gaze of the entire school on this noble House?  Are there truly Slytherins with so little subtlety?”  Severus’s black eyes seem to glitter coldly.  Numerous students were starting to look guilty.

 

  “Well?  What do you have to say for yourselves?”  

 

  “There’s no proof that it was any of us,” Draco finally said, with a petulant note in his voice.

 

  “It could have been one of the other houses, trying to set us up,” Astrid added, flicking a look towards Draco before looking back at Snape.  The girl tried to keep her expression neutral but Severus could read her like a book.  It was evident that the young first year looked up to the Malfoy scion.  He knew that proud little Astrid Rowle was very particular about who was worthy of her company.  Only the purest purebloods would do.  Evidently, Draco was the cream of the crop.

 

Severus narrowed his eyes at Astrid, who looked away, with a flush pinkening her cheeks.  He turned his gaze towards Draco, and to the boy’s credit, Draco maintained eye contact, though Severus noted the way that the boy gripped the edge of the sofa, betraying his tension.

 

  “I should hope that there’s no proof.  If I should discover such a thing, the consequences will be grave.  Your parents will be the least of your worries.”  Severus was pleased to see that several of the Slytherins paled.  It was imperative that they know how serious the situation was.  “Hopefully, that is the last lecture I have to give you on Slytherin values.  Do not disappoint me again.”

 

Satisfied that his House was reasonably cowed, Severus turned his eyes to Byron Miller, the only Slytherin afflicted with the prank.   “Mr. Miller.  Come with me.”  The older Slytherin looked up at Severus nervously, before falling into step with the departing Head of House.

 

Through several twists and turns in the dark dungeons, Severus led Byron Miller towards his office.  He opened the door, and gestured the boy in before closing the door behind him.  Severus examined Byron closely.  It was difficult, trying to read the boy’s expressions when his face looked like it was dripping blood and covered with undulating snakes.  He was aware that Byron was one of the few half-bloods in the house and that he struggled to fit in.  Byron’s posture was tense, and he looked as though he were attempting to bottle up too many feelings at once.

 

Severus walked up to the boy, closing the gap between them.  Byron did not meet his eyes, but neither did he back away.

 

  “May I?” Severus asked, holding out his hand.  Byron looked up at the professor, startled.  The Head of House was looking at Byron’s arm, which was as bloody-looking and wriggly as his face.  Looking down at his own arm, Byron held it out for the Professor to see.  With surprising gentleness, the Professor lifted up Byron’s arms, his eyes examining the serpentine movements of the tattoo.

 

  “This is a sophisticated piece of work,” Severus murmured.  “Not the sort of thing a second year is capable of creating on his own.”  Severus released Byron’s arm and looked down at the boy.  Though Byron was tall for his age, Severus was taller still.

 

  “Are you alright, Mr. Miller?” Severus asked.  Byron’s eyes widened in surprise.  While the Slytherin Head of House did favour the Slytherins, and always looked out for them, he was also not the sort to enquire about softer things such as feelings.  Nervously, Byron nodded, and his ears pinkened, though it was nearly impossible to see, due to the tattoo.

 

  “Is there anything you wish to share about tonight’s events?” Severus asked gently.  Byron looked up nervously at the Professor before looking away and shaking his head.  Severus had expected as much.  Even when a snake was ostracised by the others, they would never rat out their peers.  In some ways, it was good to show house loyalty, but in many other ways, it created problems of its own.

 

Severus sighed.  Walking over to one of the cupboards, he pulled out a Calming Draught and handed it to Byron.  “Drink,” Severus ordered.  The boy took the vial, and upended the liquid down his throat, grimacing slightly at the bitter herbal taste.

 

  “Thank you, sir,” Byron murmured, handing back the empty vial.  Severus nodded.

 

  “I trust you can make your way back to the common room on your own?” Severus asked.

 

  “Yes, sir,” Byron replied.  Much of the tension seemed to have melted from the boy’s body.  Byron was heading towards the door of the office, about to open it, when Severus spoke.

 

  “Mr. Miller.”  Byron turned around and faced the Head of House with an inquisitive expression.

 

  “If - that is -” Severus shifted uncomfortably with embarrassment. “If you are in need of someone to speak to, you may come and speak to me.  I know how difficult it can be to be a half-blood in a House full of purebloods.”  Byron’s eyes widened in surprise.  His ears were pretty much burning at this point.

 

  “Yes, sir.  Thank you, sir,” Byron replied nervously.  “Good night, sir.”  The professor nodded his head towards the boy, and Byron pulled open the office door to leave.  When Byron was gone, Severus heaved a deep sigh.  Now, to face the Headmaster.

 

Severus made his way to the third floor where the Headmaster's office was located.  Once he was in front of the ugly gargoyle statue, he said the password (“Pear drops” - candy names never sounded quite right, coming from his lips) and stood on the circular moving stone staircase.  Minerva, Filius and Pomona, all the other Heads of Houses were already waiting in the large round office.  Albus was sitting at the immense, claw-footed desk, his expression grim.

 

The eyes of the other Heads of Houses seemed accusing, but Severus had a habit of expecting the worst.  Minerva’s lips were pursed, Pomona looked troubled, and Filius seemed conflicted.

 

  “Severus,” Albus said by way of greeting.  Severus nodded and strode up to the desk, joining the other teachers.

 

  “What have you gathered from this night’s events?” the Headmaster asked the group.

 

  “It was a horrible, malicious attack,” Minerva replied vehemently.  “Many of my students are distraught.  I wouldn’t be surprised if a number of them chose to go home rather than stay at Hogwarts.  They no longer feel safe, Albus!  It’s terrible.”

 

  “It was a sophisticated prank,” Filius Flitwick added.  “I cannot imagine any of the lower level students being responsible for it.  And considering the extent, it may very well have been a group of students planning the prank, rather than just one.”

 

  “Filius is right,” Severus said in a silky drawl.  “I examined the - markings rather closely.  Very few students would be capable of such a thing, and those that are capable would have likely spent months or more in the planning of it.”

 

  “Are you suggesting that someone planned this prank since the beginning of the school year?” Pomona Sprout asked, shocked.

 

  “I am not suggesting anything.  Merely that the situation may be more than it seems,” Severus replied.

 

  “And what more could it be?” Pomona asked.  “Surely - surely nothing related to the Heir and the Chamber of Secrets?” Pomona’s expression held a hint of fear, not for herself, but for the harm that could potentially befall her beloved Hufflepuffs.

 

  “We can’t rule it out,” Filius said.  “But it could also have been a group of students wanting to take advantage of the fear, thinking to have a little fun - ah - not that it was fun of course, but the students can so often misjudge the consequences of their actions.  The common link between the events on Hallowe’en and the events this evening is the association with Salazar Slytherin - that is to say, the Chamber of Secrets was built by Salazar, and Salazar is known for having an affinity to snakes.  Not to mention, his disdain for muggles and muggleborns.”

 

  “Snakes indeed!” Minerva said, glaring at Severus.

 

  “What are you trying to imply, Minerva?” Severus asked coldly.

 

  “Just that-”  Albus Dumbledore held up his hands and cut Minerva off.

 

  “Now, now.  It’s not the time to be making accusations.  Not when we have so little evidence,” Albus said, trying to keep the two teachers from being at each other's throats.

 

  “What do you suggest we do then?  Use Legilimency on the students?  Veritaserum?” Severus asked with a bitter edge of irony in his voice.  Dumbledore might play the kindly mediator, but Severus knew that the headmaster had a strong preference for the Gryffindors over the Slytherins.  Not to mention the Headmaster’s manipulative tendencies.  It was up to Severus to protect his House, as best as he could.  The Slytherins didn’t need to be antagonized more than they already were.

 

  “Nothing so drastic!” Albus responded.  “Only that, with so extensive a prank, whoever is responsible is likely to slip up at some point.  We need only observe the students carefully.  They are young witches and wizards afterall.  Considering the sophistication of the prank, the allure of bragging would surely be irresistible.”

 

Both Minerva McGonagall and Severus were frowning at the Headmaster.  But both of them also knew that the issue was unlikely to be resolved this night.  With little more to say, the Headmaster soon dismissed the Heads of House, and Severus found himself with more questions than ever before.

 

It was rather unfortunate that the following day was still a school day.  Severus would have liked to throw himself into a book, and learn all he could about the makings of the snake bite prank.  Instead, he was stuck teaching potions to a hopeless group of dunderheads.  Well, admittedly, they weren’t all bad, but the incompetent ones really made Severus wish that there was a remedial potions class taught by someone other than him.  Though in truth, such a person would likely have been long dead from all the potions accidents that they would have to endure.

 

As his first year class, consisting of Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, filed into the classroom, Severus’s eyes alighted upon Primrose Potter, and it occurred to him that this would be the perfect time to ask her about her brother.  The issue had been on his mind for a while, but he previously had no reason to approach the girl about her brother’s behaviour.  With the recent prank, asking about Harry would seem perfectly normal.  Severus didn’t think Harry was actually capable of the prank, but he had no hesitation about taking advantage of the situation.  It was just that Severus still found himself disturbed by the boy’s drastic change in personality - first from his usual fearful self to some sort of intelligent, monotoned glassy-eyed shell-of-a-wizard, to finally this most recent incarnation of unusual self-assurance.  Severus wasn’t sure what to make of it.  If Potter actually started making eye-contact, he would have called it arrogance and conceit, but the boy somehow maintained his humble demeanour.  Snape scoffed in annoyance. 

 

Severus wanted to have a reason to be mad at Potter.  It sounded petty, but it was true.  He wanted to take the brat down a notch, and yet, the boy never seemed to do anything wrong anymore.  As usual, Potter answered questions correctly in class.  His potions turned out better than adequate.  He never made eye contact with Severus, and he never made a scene of himself like the ridiculous know-it-all Miss Granger.  Potter’s hair seemed almost tidier, and his clothes were clean and neat.  The boy was never anything less than polite, and he somehow even avoided conflict with his classmates.  While Snape would have loved to spend his day raining invectives upon the boy’s head, he could no longer do so without looking like a completely irrational madman with a personal grudge against a twelve year old boy.  Even if he did actually have an irrational grudge against said twelve year old boy.

 

Thus, after the first years finished the class and submitted their Burning Bitterroot Balm, Severus called out, “Miss Potter.  Please stay after class.”  The other students gave Primrose a sympathetic glance, and even Primrose seemed momentarily startled by the request, but she quickly schooled her features into a calm blankness.  Severus could not help but get the impression that she would have a natural talent for Occlumency.

 

While the rest of the students filed out of the classroom, Primrose walked over to Severus’s desk.  Once the door of the classroom fell shut behind the last student, Severus pinned Primrose with his inscrutable gaze. 

 

  “Miss Potter,” he said softly.  “As you know, there have been a number of troubling events at our school.”  Primrose nodded cautiously.

 

  “The school is, of course, exploring every avenue.  The student’s safety is the school’s top priority.”  Severus eyed Primrose, while she nodded yet again. “I wished to ask if you have noticed anything strange about your brother in the past months.”  Severus examined Primrose’s face.  The girl didn’t flinch, but there was a flash behind her eyes, which she quickly hid.

 

  “Are you - implying something, sir?” Rosie asked suspiciously.  The last thing she wanted was for Harry to be blamed for the horrible snake bite prank.  Plus, she could tell from Harry’s expression and from the emotional link that he wasn’t at fault.

 

  “I’m merely making an inquiry.  No blame has been cast at Mr. Potter’s feet.  But perhaps he may know something.  The staff must cover every avenue of course,” Severus replied smoothly.

 

  “Then shouldn’t Professor McGonagall be the one questioning Harry?” Rosie asked.

 

  “As you know, the brunt of the prank fell upon the Gryffindor House.  Professor McGonagall has her hands full.”  Severus watched the emotions that flickered across the girl’s eyes.  She was able to keep her face calm, but her eyes were far too telling.  He knew that she was hiding something - the question was, what?

 

  “Harry has been stressed,” Rosie said cautiously, glancing away before looking back at her Professor.  “He sometimes pushes himself too hard.”

 

  “I didn’t ask whether or not your brother is stressed or how hard he works, Miss Potter,” Severus replied, with a slight acerbic edge to his voice.  It was not his normal venom - he couldn’t quite use that tone of voice when speaking to someone with Lily’s face.

 

  “Stress can change a person’s behaviour,” Rosie replied neutrally.  “He had been struggling with a lot.”  There was a flash of something in Primrose’s eyes, and Severus wondered if he really saw anything or if it was a trick of his mind.  The girl had seemed momentarily angry at him.  But of course, as Severus bitterly considered the situation, he realized that Primrose would certainly take Potter’s side in all matters.  She, like everyone else, would be blind to Potter’s numerous flaws.

 

 “Yes, stress can certainly affect someone’s behaviour.  But as his sister, surely you would be able to differentiate between normal stress and abnormal behaviour manifesting from said stress,” Severus pressed.

 

Primrose’s expression was blank.  She kept her eyes on his, and for a moment, he was tempted to try legilimency on her.  Surely she wouldn’t notice one quick look.  And yet, it felt as though it would be wrong to invade her mind, so he refrained.

 

  “As you know, sir, my brother and I are in different Houses,” Primrose said, her voice soft.  “I can’t watch him all the time.  This is my first year at Hogwarts.  I don’t know how he was like last year, so I can’t really compare.”  There was a glint of stubbornness in Primrose’s eyes that reminded him sharply of Lily.  He knew that it would be near impossible to push past that stubbornness.  Aware that he could go no further, he dismissed his student.

 

  “Alright then.  That is all, Miss Potter,” Severus said, tiredly.  Rosie gave him an unreadable expression before nodding.

 

  “See you next class, sir,” Rosie said.  It felt weird to her, to simply leave without saying a word.  Of course, saying ‘see you next class’ sounded completely awkward to her ears, but she tried to shrug it off.  She didn’t wait for a response, as she left the Potions classroom.

 

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

 

Rosie made her way out of the maze of the dungeons up to the Great Hall.  She knew that Harry had his Tuesday afternoons free, but she wondered whether he and his friends would venture out for lunch, or whether they would have preferred to stay holed away in the Gryffindor Common room.  Since the tattoo probably wouldn’t disappear until the evening, there was a good likelihood that he would have preferred to stay with the other Gryffindors, in support of them.  Unfortunately for Rosie, she was correct.  The Gryffindor table was still mostly empty.  Rosie made her way to the Ravenclaw table and sat in her usual spot, smiling weakly at Romulus and Luna.

 

  “What did Professor Snape want from you?” Luna asked, as she stirred her pumpkin juice-syrup mix..

 

  “He was asking me about Harry,” Rosie replied, frowning.

 

  “Hm.  That makes sense,” Luna said, in her typical oblique manner.

 

  “What do you mean?” Rosie examined Luna, as though expecting to see the answer on her friend’s face.  Of course, Luna’s face never really revealed anything.

 

  “Oh, only that Professor Snape seems to watch Harry a lot.  Maybe he can see whatever it is that has its hold on Harry,” Luna responded.

 

  “Do you think so?” Rosie worried.  “I mean, I know that Professor Snape doesn’t exactly like Harry, but - I was hoping he’d leave Harry alone, once Harry did better in class.”

 

  “I don’t think that Professor Snape is the sort who just lets things go,” Luna murmured.

 

  “Yeah, I suppose not.”  Rosie sighed.  “What do you think of this whole thing anyway?  I mean, I know we spoke about it last night” (Rosie and Luna usually had extensive conversations before bed, unless both of them were occupied by books or  _ The Quibbler _ ).

 

  “It could be part of Heliopath Conspiracy,” Luna replied.  “I think that the Minister of Magic resents the Headmaster’s power.  That could by why the Minister is enlisting an army of the fire spirits at his command.”  

 

Rosie frowned as she considered Luna’s words.  “You think someone set up that prank to cause the Headmaster to lose his position?” Rosie’s voice was hushed, and she peeked a glance up at the High Table.  As she considered what Luna was saying, it seemed to make a lot of sense.  But then, who wanted the Headmaster gone?  In that case, the Slytherins were the most likely culprit.  After all, Professor Dumbledore was one of the most powerful wizards on the side of the Light.  And how did Harry fit into this whole thing?  Rosie frowned as she realized the assumption she just made about Harry’s involvement.  While she did believe in Harry’s innocence, there were pieces in the puzzle that just didn’t fit.  And the blackness in her link with Harry, which seemed to only be increasing, made her more uneasy than she ordinarily would have been.  She knew Harry wasn’t responsible for the prank, but maybe he had accidently shared the tattoo ink with the wrong people.  Maybe he was indirectly related.  She hoped not.

 

  “Professor Dumbledore has a lot of enemies,” Luna replied.  “Powerful people tend to attract others, rather like how Brishmoops are attracted to orange marmalade.”

 

Rosie nodded.  That was true enough.  Rosie glanced back at the Gryffindor Table.  Still no sign of any of them.  She sighed.

 

  “I hope that this all works out.  When I came to Hogwarts, I really thought I’d be focusing on studying, instead of - well - all this.”  Rosie laughed weakly.  “I guess my Ravenclaw-ness is showing.”  Luna’s eyes twinkled with amusement, and she took a sip of her pumpkin juice.

 

  “I think we all want answers,” Luna replied.  “It’s just that we all have different ways of finding them.”


	13. Chapter 13

After lunch, Rosie decided she would spent the rest of the afternoon in the Library doing her homework, and if she had time, she would do some more reading on healing magic.  While she she often found studying to be more comfortable in the Ravenclaw common room, she was also more likely to come across Harry in the library, on the off chance that he decided to leave the Gryffindor Tower.  Luna and wandered off after lunch, saying something about Blibbering Humdingers, and Romulus, of course, had no interest in studying in the Library with her.  Dealing with Ravenclaws was enough for Romulus - he had no interesting in being around other students more than he needed to.  Rosie shook her head - Romulus was probably the most unsocial person she had ever met.  Of course, anyone who was less social was probably living in a cave off in the mountains.

 

As Rosie walked along the corridor towards the library, she noticed Luthais, Mathilda and Harper Harris up ahead.  Wanting to speak to the Slytherins, she broke into a jog and caught up to the trio.

 

  “Hi Mathilda, Hi Luthais, Hey Harper,” she said, giving them a weak smile.  Considering recent events, most of the students were on edge, and the Slytherins were certainly no exception.

 

  “Primrose,” Mathilda greet her with a graceful tilt of her head.

 

  “Let me guess, you want to talk about yesterday evening,” Luthais said with a slight sardonic edge to his voice.  Harper’s expression was inscrutable as he looked at Rosie.  She did not speak to him as often as she spoke to Mathilda or Luthais.  Harper could often be difficult to read.

 

  “Huh,” Rosie’s ears pinkened. “I’m pretty obvious, aren’t I?”

 

Mathilda gave a light laugh.  “A Ravenclaw seeking information?  We’d expect nothing less of you.”

 

  “I’m surprised you haven’t started throwing accusations yet,” Harper said darkly.  “Everyone else is.”  Rosie looked at Harper with surprise.

 

  “I don’t think you guys did this,” Rosie said.

 

  “But you think it’s the Slytherins?” Harper spat out accusingly.

 

  “I’m - Look, I’m not jumping to any conclusions, Harper.  I just want to know what’s going on,” Rosie replied defensively.

 

  “Don’t we all,” Mathilda sighed ruefully.

 

  “Harper’s just on edge,” Luthais added.  “I’m sure you’ve noticed how people are looking at us.”

 

  “I - What?  People are looking?”  Rosie looked around the corridor, and indeed, the other students were giving the Slytherin first years nasty glares.  She was so used to getting angry glares herself from the Ravenclaws that it had escaped her notice.

 

  “Were you always this oblivious, Primrose?” Luthais asked, his voice tinged with amusement.  “You wouldn’t make a very good Slytherin - not enough of a self-preservation instinct.”

 

  “My self preservation instincts are just fine, Luthais.  I mean, I’ve been dodging hexes all month,” Rosie retorted.

 

  “Who’s hexing you?” Mathilda asked curiously.

 

  “Oh - the other Ravenclaws.  Not all of them!  But there’s a few that really hate me,” Rosie told her.

 

Luthais’s expression was somewhere between disbelieving and admiration.  “You haven’t even been here for half a year, and you already have enemies in your own house?  What have you been up to Primrose?”

 

 “Ha - well - it’s stupid.”  Rosie looked away, embarrassed.

 

 “Telling us it’s stupid only makes us more intrigued,” Mathilda replied.  “Though if it’s stupidity of your own doing, I can see why you’d want to keep quiet.”

 

 “It kind of was,” Rosie muttered.  “Do you three know Toby Woodbridge?  He’s a fourth year.”

 

 “Smart?  Glasses?” Luthais asked.

 

  “Smart and glasses would describe many Ravenclaws, but yes,” Rosie responded.  

 

  “A respectable pureblood family,” Mathilda murmured.  “Intelligence runs Woodbridge line.  It’s rumoured that his father works as an unspeakable in the Department of Mysteries.  But of course, no one has ever been able to confirm it.”

 

  “Really?  An unspeakable?  It’d be amazing to work there,” Rosie sighed wistfully.

 

  “You’re getting off-track,” Luthais said.  “I want to hear about your enemies.”

 

  “I wouldn’t go so far as to call them enemies,” Rosie equivocated, staring down at the floor.  When she looked up again, all three pairs of Slytherin eyes were looking at her expectantly.  Rosie gave an exaggerate sigh.

 

 “Fine!  I’ll tell you.  But then you have to tell me what you know about yesterday.  Fair?” Rosie asked.

 

The three Slytherins looked at one another before looking back at Rosie.  “This better be interesting,” Harper said, darkly, but the boy seemed to have relaxed the slightest bit.

 

  “I’m sure it will be,” Mathilda responded, looking at Rosie expectantly.

 

  “Hm.  Where do I begin.  You recall how a while back, people were making fun of my friend Luna?”  The three Slytherins nodded, but said nothing.  People were still making fun of Luna, considering that half the school thought her name actually was ‘Loony.’

 

  “Well it started with Toby Woodbridge.  I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but a lot of the Ravenclaws look up to him.  Actually, I should say idolize him.” Rosie continued.

 

  “It’s not just Ravenclaws,” Mathilda informed her.  “I’ve heard Slytherins speaking well of him.”

 

Rosie nodded.  “Well, in Ravenclaw, I’d say it goes farther than just speaking well.  He seems to have a following.” Rosie’s face scrunched up in distaste.  “Which doesn’t exactly do credit to the Ravenclaw House. You’d think they’d be smarter than that.”

 

  “It’s natural to want to gravitate towards a leader,” Luthais informed her.  “Power is desirable.”

 

Rosie looked doubtful, but she continued.  She told the three Slytherins about Toby’s 'territory' in the common room (though none of the Slytherins found the idea strange), and she explained how Luna had unwittingly entered that 'territory.'  She then went further and told them about her confrontation with Toby.

 

  “He was so - weird about it!  I thought he’d just try and cut me down with an insult and a cold look, but instead, he treats me like - like -” Rosie tried to find the words to describe Toby’s behaviour.  The Slytherins looked at her expectantly.

 

  “I don’t know!  Like I’m some sort of pet or something,” Rosie pouted with irritation.  The Slytherins burst out laughing.

 

  “Like a pet?” Luthais repeated.  “Does he go around, ruffling your hair too?”

 

Rosie frowned.  “Actually -”

 

Mathilda grinned.  “Oh dear, Primrose.  Well, if the other Eagles idolize him as much as you say, I can see how that would make you a few enemies.  But - I think it’s kind of cute.”

 

Rosie glared at the girl.  “It’s not cute, believe me.”

 

  “I always thought a pet snake would be nice and exotic, but maybe I should consider a pet human instead,” Harper added, unhelpfully.

 

  “Forget about it!  Just -” Rosie huffed.  “Why don’t you tell me what you know about yesterday?”

 

The change in topic caused the Slytherin’s expressions to darken.

 

  “Okay, but not here,” Luthais said, looking around the corridor cautiously.  The group walked up a flight of stairs and found an empty classroom.  Luthais swept his gaze up and down the hallway before shutting the classroom door.

 

  “So?” Rosie asked.  The Slytherins looked at one another, as though not sure of who should speak.

 

  “This is mostly hearsay, but if you speak of this to anyone - let’s just say that your next six years here will be a living hell,” Luthais forewarned. 

 

  “I would never!” Rosie exclaimed.  “I’m not like that.”

 

  “Even if it’s something you wouldn’t want to hear?  Even if it’s something dangerous?”  Harper asked.

 

Rosie frowned.  “Is it something dangerous?”

 

The Slytherins were silent as they considered how to answer.  “Look, none of this is certain.  It’s just our suspicions,” Luthais told her.  “So we’d really appreciate it if you didn’t spread the word around.”

 

  “Alright.  I’ll keep it to myself,” Rosie agreed.  She found herself feeling slightly troubled.  She was used to sharing things with her friends, and it didn’t sit to well to know that she was about to hear something that could not be shared.  At the same time, she knew she had to find out.

 

  “We think it’s Draco,” Luthais said softly.

 

  “Draco Malfoy?  The second year?” Rosie asked.   The Slytherins nodded.  Their suspicions seemed to coincide with what Romulus had told her.

 

  “Did he come up with it himself?” Rosie asked hopefully.  If the prank could be laid entirely at Draco’s doorstep, then that would acquit Harry entirely.

 

  “No, we don’t believe so,” Mathilda replied.  She looked at the other two Slytherins before looking back at Rosie.

 

 “A couple weeks ago, he got a package in the Great Hall.  Draco is always getting packages from his parents, so we usually recognize his eagle owl, but in this case, the owl that dropped off the package was a barn owl.  It isn’t that unusual for us to get packages that aren’t from our parents.  I think we all would have forgotten it soon after, but then, he started acting incredibly self-satisfied and smug,” Mathilda explained.

 

  “What’s that word that Snape always uses?  Oh, insufferable,” Luthais said.  “He started talking about how he had been chosen by the Heir, and how important the Malfoys were-”

 

  “Wait - Chosen by the Heir?” Rosie asked, wide-eyed.  “As if in, the Chamber of Secrets Heir?”

 

Mathilda and Luthais nodded.  “Yes.  He kept implying that he had been given an important mission by the Heir, but he wouldn’t tell us what it was.”

 

  “He told Crabbe and Goyle,” Harper said.

 

  “And I believe Astrid as well.  She’s been following Draco around like a love-sick crup,” Mathilda added.  “And some of the third and fourth years - the ones who are willing to defer to him because of his family name.”

 

  “Did any of you see what was in the package?” Rosie asked.

 

  “No,” Mathilda replied, while Luthais and Harper shook their heads. 

 

  “And you’re quite certain that Draco didn’t come up with the prank himself?” said Rosie.

 

  “If Draco had come up with it, he wouldn’t have been able to resist bragging,” Luthais responded, barely able to keep from rolling his eyes.  “Draco isn’t one to keep his accomplishments to himself.”

 

Rosie frowned as she considered their words.  Rather than feeling reassured, she felt worse than ever.  Even if the Slytherins had been the ones to administer the prank, they weren’t ultimately responsible for creating the tattoo.  Yet, never in a million years could she imagine that Harry would give the tattoo potion over to the Slytherins - especially not for the purpose of terrifying the students. 

 

 “Well, thank you for telling me all this,” Rosie told the three Slytherins.

 

 “Just remember, not a word,” Luthais called out as Rosie headed towards the door.  

Rosie nodded.  “See you in class.”

 

After spending an hour in the Library, Rosie decided to give Sirius a call.  Harry had not come down from the Gryffindor Tower at all, and she figured that Sirius would probably be awake.  Finding a secluded alcove to sit in, Rosie called her Godfather’s name in the mirror.  After a few minutes, his face appeared.

 

  “Pup!” He exclaimed.  “I read the  _ Prophet _ .  Are you two okay?  Where’s Harry?”

 

  “Hi Padfoot.  I’m alright.  I think Harry’s alright, but I haven’t seen him all day.  He’s probably in Gryffindor Tower with his friends.”

 

  “What happened?  The  _ Prophet _ made it sound like things were really bad.  I could hardly believe my eyes when I saw that photo.  It - It -”

 

Rosie sighed.  “Yeah.”  Rosie could understand what Sirius didn’t want to voice: that the prank was far too similar to his tattoo project.

 

Though Rosie didn’t want to ask, she knew she had to.  It would have haunted her to not know.  “Padfoot - Did you -”

 

  “No!” Sirius exclaimed, understanding her unspoken question.  “No, I didn’t create the snake version of the tattoo prank.  Only the kitten, puppies and spiders.  I would never -” Sirius shook his head.  “I would never create something so malicious.”

 

Rosie nodded.  “I’m sorry - I shouldn’t have doubted you.  It’s just been kind of stressful lately.”

 

Sirius’s expression was sympathetic.   “Are you sure you don’t want to come home, pup?”

 

  “Yeah,” Rosie replied.  In truth, she was very, very tempted to go home.  But she felt like this was something she couldn’t run away from.  In some way that she didn’t understand, she had a feeling that Harry was tied up in everything that was happening.  Unless Harry decided to go home, she would stay put.

 

  “Listen, if you and Harry ever do want to come home, just let me know.  I’ll pick you both up right away.”

 

Rosie felt a tightness in her throat.  “Thank you Padfoot.  I - I miss you.”

 

  “Aww - I miss you too pup.”

 

Rosie ended the call early.  She wasn’t in the state of mind to talk about trivialities, and she desperately wanted to speak to Harry.  However, her chance did not come until the evening at supper.

 

Since it was Tuesday, Rosie headed to the Hospital wing in the late afternoon to help Madam Pomfrey.  There were more students in the infirmary than Rosie had ever seen before, and the matron seemed happy to have Rosie’s help.  The vast majority of the students were marked by the snakebite tattoo, which had not yet faded.

 

 “Most of them are physically fine,” the matron told Rosie in a spare moment.  “But they’re emotionally distraught.  Do a quick diagnosis spell on the students that come in.  If they’re upset, give them a Calming Draught.  If you are uncertain about anything, ask me first.  If you detect any colours at all, fetch me immediately.  Short-term distress should not result in any noticeable colours in the charm.”  Rosie nodded.

 

Throughout the early evening, Rosie cast multiple diagnosis charms, mostly on Gryffindors, though there were a few Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws.  Just like the incident with Miss Pocklington when Rosie had first tried the diagnosis spell, she seemed to be able to feel the student’s emotions in the back of her head and neck.  

 

Her heart went out to the poor students, who were shaken down to the core over the horrible prank.  The malicious attack of the previous night was simply so targeted, and so terrible, that Rosie could understand how the students’ sense of safety could be undermined.  Even if there was no physical damage, the students were deeply upset.  As Rosie handed out Calming Draught after Calming Draught, she wondered if Madam Pomfrey’s store would run out.  Did Madam Pomfrey even brew these draughts?  Or could it be Professor Snape?  If it were Professor Snape, she imagined that he would have a lot of brewing to do, to replenish the store of Calming Draughts.

 

After a couple of hours of steady work, Rosie made her way to the Great Hall for supper.  As she had predicted, the bloody snake tattoos had worn off by the evening, and a large number of the Gryffindors were in the Great Hall for supper, though they had arrived later than the rest of the Houses.  The atmosphere was still subdued, and Rosie noticed several gaps at the Gryffindor table.  She wondered if some of the students had decided to return home.  Rosie looked up at the Head Table.  The teacher’s expressions were still grim.  Professor McGonagall looked particularly worn out and unhappy.

 

As soon as Harry and his friends entered the Great Hall, Rosie stood up and rushed towards them.  Behind the trio, she could see Nearly Headless Nick waving to Harry before departing.

 

  “Hi, Hermione, Hi Neville,” she said in a hurry.  “Harry - I need to speak to you.  Can we meet later?”

 

Harry had dark circles under his eyes and looked paler than usual.  He nodded in response.

 

  “Are you guys okay?” Rosie asked Hermione and Neville.

 

  “We’re fine,” Hermione replied.  “The prank was ghastly, but ultimately harmless.  Well physically harmless.  I think it was extremely psychologically damaging for the victims, and the perpetrators ought to be expelled.”  Hermione shot a furious glare towards the Slytherin table.  Rosie looked towards the Slytherins.  She could have sworn that the second year Draco was smirking at them.

 

  “Well, I’ll talk to you later, okay? I’m glad you’re alright.”  The trio casually waved her off as she returned back to the Ravenclaw table.  Supper seemed to last an indeterminate amount of time.  Even after she had finished her dessert, Harry and his friends were still eating, and she had no inclination to rush them through their meal.  Noticing Rosie’s squirming impatience, Luna put a small handful of grapes on Rosie’s plate.  Rosie gave Luna a half smile, and began to pop the fruit into her mouth.  Finally, Harry and his friends appeared to be finished eating.  She stood up, and walked towards the trio.

 

  “Where do you want to go?” Rosie asked Harry, once his friends departed. 

 

  “Let’s go to the alcove close by the stairs leading up to the owlery,” Harry replied.  The siblings walked in silence, both lost in their own thoughts.  When they reached the alcove, they sat, and shared nervous glances.  Through the empathic link, Rosie could feel Harry’s unhappiness and confusion.

 

  “ _ What do you think happened, Harry _ ?” Rosie asked softly in parseltongue.

 

  “ _ I don’t know.  I think someone stole that tattoo potion from me _ .” Harry replied, troubled.

 

  “ _ Stole?  Where did you keep it?  When did it go missing _ ?”

 

  “ _ I’m not sure.  Padfoot leaves me so many of his prototypes that I just kind of throw them in my trunk.  You know how it is.”  _  In fact, Rosie did know, seeing as she had a whole section of her trunk dedicated to Sirius’s projects, that he insisted she ‘try’ on her fellow classmates.  She had never been able to bring herself to use them on any of the students, but she admitted that the idea of using them on Toby was tempting.  Or perhaps she could try them on Marietta and Sarah.

 

_   “I didn’t even bother to check whether it was missing or not until - well - yesterday night, after all that stuff happened _ ,” Harry told her.

 

  “ _ Who could have stolen it?  If it was stolen, then - wouldn’t that mean one of the Gryffindors did it? _ ”

 

  “ _ I don’t know what to think.  Malfoy was looking pretty damned pleased with himself.  If he is responsible for all this, I don’t know how he could have gotten the potion.  I can’t imagine any Gryffindor being willing to collaborate on such a sickening prank _ . _  A few of the Gryffindors ended up going home.  People don’t feel safe anymore. _ ”  Harry’s expression was pained, as though he blamed himself.  Through the link, Rosie could feel Harry’s guilt, which made her heart ache since she knew it wasn’t his fault.

 

  “ _ I spoke to Sirius earlier. _ ”  Rosie said.

 

  “ _ What did he say? _ ”

 

  “ _ He asked if we wanted to go home.  And he confirmed that he never made a snake version of the tattoo prank, _ ” Rosie told him.

 

  “ _ I’m almost tempted to go home _ ,” Harry replied.  “ _ And Sirius would never make a prank like the snake bite prank _ .”

 

Rosie looked away guiltily.  “ _ I know.  I shouldn’t have questioned him.  It was a stone I couldn’t leave unturned _ .”

 

That brought a weak smile to Harry’s face.  “ _ Ravenclaw _ .”

 

  “ _ Gryffindor _ .” Rosie replied.   The siblings both smiled at that, and relaxed slightly.

 

  “So how have you been lately, Harry?  Is your sleep any better?”  Rosie asked, no longer speaking in parseltongue.  

 

  “I’m still falling asleep randomly throughout the day.  But I’m getting used to it,” he told her.

 

  “Have you gone to Madam Pomfrey about it?” Rosie asked.  “I know that sleep has always been difficult for you, but maybe she can help.  She’s really knowledgeable!”

 

  “Heh.  I can see you still have a lot of enthusiasm for healing.  You do know that if you want to be a healer, you need at least an E on your Potions N.E.W.T.?  That means five more years with Snape for company.”

 

  “Of course I know!” Rosie replied.  “But you still haven’t answered my question.”

 

Harry sighed.  “No, I haven’t gone to the infirmary.  It’s not that bad.  I mean, if my grades start slipping, I’ll go, but that hasn’t been an issue at all.  I think I’m just a bad sleeper.”

 

Rosie couldn’t help giving Harry a look of concern.  “Could I try the diagnosis charm on you?  I’ve been practicing it whenever I’m in the Hospital wing. In fact, I just spent a big part of my afternoon casting diagnosis charms.  I think I’m quite good at it now.  I might not be able to read everything it’s telling me, but at least, it’ll tell me if something is wrong.”

 

Harry shrugged.  “Alright.  Do your thing, student nurse Potter.”  Rosie giggled in amusement.  

 

  “Maybe I should ask Madam Pomfrey for a new uniform,” she said.  Harry grinned.

 

  “I predict that your remedy will be - bed rest!” Rosie added, her expression teasing.

 

  “Oh Merlin - Madam Pomfrey’s a dragon when it comes to bedrest.  If she really wanted us to rest so much, she should really install more comfortable hospital beds,” Harry complained.

 

  “I’ll be sure to tell her that next time I see her.  Now sit still.  I’m going to do the charm.”  Rosie pulled out her wand.  “ _ Egritudo _ .”

 

Rosie could feel the familiar sensation of the spell.  She was not surprised to perceive the faint redness throughout his body that suggested fatigue, though it was light enough that it was barely perceptible.  What did trouble her was the blackness in their empathic link.  She had always described the feeling as blackness, but admittedly, she never actually ‘saw’ it.  Even the black outs were more metaphorical, than actually being black.  However, after casting the diagnosis spell, the blackness seemed to take on a greater clarity.  What had previously just felt black now actually looked black.

 

Most of the blackness was centered in Harry’s head, but worryingly, she could also detect a trace of blackness around Harry’s heart.  With her magical senses, she tried to examine the blackness more closely.  It was not a static, stable thing - in fact, it’s outer edges seemed to have a mist-like quality, and the mist appeared to diffuse outwards, spreading into the rest of Harry.  What had Madam Pomfrey said about the colour black?  Rosie couldn’t remember.  Whatever it was, Rosie knew for certain that it wasn’t  _ right _ .  If Harry were healthy, she shouldn’t be detecting any colours from him.  That could only mean that the blackness was some sort of illness, something that was wrong.

 

Acting on impulse, rather than thinking about what she was doing, Rosie found herself reaching towards the blackness - not physically, but mentally and magically.  From the depths of her heart, she wanted Harry to be well, and wanted to heal whatever it was that had afflicted him.  He was her brother after all, and she cared about him more than she cared about anyone else.

 

As Rosie’s magic touched the blackness, it recoiled and dispersed.  In that split second, the misty edges appeared to frantically avoid contact with her magic, and the blackness seemed to sizzle and hum, reminding her of an irate swarm of wasps.  Before she could examine it more closely, Harry jolted in his seat.

 

  “Bloody hell!” Harry swore.  “What are you doing Rosie?  That bloody hurt!”  Harry’s eyes were startled and accusing, and Rosie flinched away from him.

 

  “What? But - You weren’t supposed to feel anything!  Madam Pomfrey said!”  

 

Harry had raised both hands to the sides of his head and his eyes were squeezed shut.

 

  “I don’t know what you just did but don’t do it again,” Harry growled.  Rosie felt stung by the harshness in his voice.

 

 “I didn’t mean to hurt you Harry.  I’m really sorry!  It was just a diagnosis charm.  You shouldn’t have even felt anything!” 

 

Harry opened his eyes, and his emerald gaze met hers.  Rosie felt pinned in place by the animosity of his glare.  Though the feeling of the diagnosis spell was fast fading, the blackness in their empathic link remained.  In that moment, she felt like she was looking at a stranger.  As quick as it came, the blackness faded back into the background, and Harry seemed to return to being Harry.

 

  “Rosie?” Harry was saying.  “Oww - my head hurts.  Why are you looking at me like that?”

 

  “Harry?” Rosie replied.  Harry looked at her oddly.

 

  “What happened?  I’ve got a splitting headache,” Harry groaned.

 

  “We should go to the infirmary Harry.  Madam Pomfrey can get you a potion.”

 

Harry shook his head.  “I’ll be okay.”  He winced as he stood up.  “I should get back.  I feel like I could sleep for a million years.”

 

Rosie frowned and held on to the edge of Harry’s robe before he could depart.

 

  “I really think you should go to the infirmary, Harry,” she said firmly.

 

Harry smiled weakly.  “I really appreciate your concern Rosie.  But I’m fine.  I feel a lot better now.  I think I just need a good sleep.”  Rosie’s expression was doubtful.

 

  “Look, if I’m still feeling bad tomorrow, I’ll go to the infirmary straight away, alright?  I just want to get into my own bed, and lie down,” Harry said, trying to placate Rosie.  Rosie pursed her lips, and then nodded, letting go of Harry’s sleeve.

 

  “Promise?”

 

  “I promise,” Harry replied.  

 

That night, Rosie struggled to fall asleep.  She couldn’t stop thinking about Harry’s expression, and about the blackness that she had seen.  Could it have all be in her imagination?  Not the blackness - she was quite certain about the blackness.  What she desperately wanted to repudiate was the enmity she had seen in Harry’s eyes for that brief moment.  She had never seen an expression like that on Harry’s face before.  It didn’t even look like him at all.

 

The blackness itself had been troubling as well.  She supposed that she could ask Madam Pomfrey about it tomorrow, but she suddenly remembered that the matron had lent her that book on diagnostic spells.  Pulling the book out of her schoolbag, Rosie drew the curtains shut around her four-poster bed, and used the  _ lumos _ spell to illuminate the darkness.  The book was a rather thick tome - Rosie had barely even gotten past the first chapter.  It was a rather technical book that was more of a reference, than it was a light read.

 

Rosie flipped through the pages, trying to find information about what the colour black would mean in a diagnosis spell.  It turned out that there was an entire lengthy chapter dedicated to the matter, and what she read made her blood run cold.

 

_ Overview of Diagnosis Colours: Black  _  she read.

 

_ Many of the colours in a diagnosis spell recognize variants of both muggle and magical ailments.  However, if one should see the colour black in a diagnosis spell, the cause is always magical.  Seeing black in your patient is generally indicative of curses.  Curse is used in the broadest sense of the word.  This encompasses your typical curse, but can also cover attacks by Dark magic that have effects beyond physical damage, as well as possession.  Diagnosis charms can also detect if the patient is wearing a cursed item, though the effects will be shown in the patient’s body, and not in the item itself.  Not all cursed items can be easily detected.  In many cases, the item, such as a ring, may affect another part of the patient’s body, such as their mind, and the healer will only see the effects on the patient’s mind, not the cursed ring on the patient’s finger. _

 

_ Though serious in nature, it is important to realize that not all curses are fatal the patient, and not all curses can be cured.  In many cases, the subject may not even realize they are under a curse.  A curse can appear at any spot on the patient’s body.  In some cases, the curse is localized, and in other cases, the curse is widespread.  There was a curious case in 1698 where a Messrs. R. Doge had a curse in the index finger of his left hand.  Only amputation of the finger was effective in removing the curse.  Whether localized or extensive, curses are usually difficult to remove.  Even localized curses are not guaranteed to be removed by the amputation of the offending member.  There are numerous cases where localized curses have transferred from one point to another in the patient’s body.  In many cases, the older the curse, less likely it is that the curse can be lifted. _

 

_ There is no standard remedy for the removal of curses.  The sheer variation in types curses means that for each curse, there may only be one counter-curse or cure, assuming a counter-curse or cure even exists.  As it stands, a significant number of dark spells - and in particularly, experimental dark spells - have no remedy.  This is complicated by the fact that many curses are one-of-a-kind in nature. _

 

_ The shape of the curse is also an important component in understanding the curse itself.  This is an extremely complex matter and is further discussed in section XIV of this chapter. _

 

_ Only the most experienced specialists should deal with rare or unknown curses.  Curses are not a thing to be treated lightly, and the ignorance of many healers has led to far too many fatalities.  _

 

_ One final thing to note is that if a curse is non-fatal, it may be safer to allow the patient to live under the curse.  There are innumerable cases where the attempted removal of the curse has done more damage to the patient than the curse itself.  Often times, the removal of a curse can lead to the patient’s death.  There is a strong bias against allowing witches or wizard to remain living in cursed states, and this author hopes to clear up the numerous misconceptions about curses. _

 

_ The next sections will give an overview of the most common curse-types and their possible remedies (if remedies exist); the interaction of curses with the individual witch or wizard; the implications of living with a curse and methods of easing curse symptoms; a general overview of cursed objects and their possible removal; and the ethical considerations of living with a curse include the views of the world’s most renowned curse-specialists. _

 

_ Curses are a highly complex and varied subject.  This book can only give a general overview and it is recommended that interested scholars do further research. _

 

Rosie flipped through the pages, trying to determine where the chapter ended.  The chapter on curses was over two hundred pages long, containing numerous diagrams and accounts of individual cases.  She hoped that the chapter would be able to give her a sense of what was affecting Harry, but the author’s words did not leave her feeling optimistic.  What if Harry’s curse was incurable?  What if it was one-of-a-kind?  She considered the implication of Harry having to live with a curse for the rest of his life.  Would it truly be so bad?  He seemed to be doing relatively well, but with Harry, it could be hard to gauge.  And if Harry was indeed cursed, when did it occur?  Was it in late September when she felt the darkness in their link?  Or could it have gone further back?  Harry had lived through so many frightening experiences - for all she knew, he could have been cursed since childhood.  Rather than starting to feel tired, Rosie felt more awake than ever, and she turned the page of the thick tome, intent on discovering all she could about curses.


	14. Chapter 14

The following day, Rosie was so sleep deprived that she felt like she had been drinking too many vials of Befuddlement Draught.  She had intended to speak to Madam Pomfrey as soon as she had the time, but realized that she had somehow forgotten a DADA essay that she was supposed to complete for the following day, and she had to work on that instead.  It wasn’t until the day after that she started feeling like a normal witch again. 

 

Her first class of the day was Potions, and she kept getting the impression that Professor Snape was giving her looks, but whenever she glanced at him, his attention was focused elsewhere.  She wondered if she was just being paranoid because of her concerns about Harry.  Defense was next, and she handed in her essay, and spent the rest of the class mulling over her own worries rather than listening to Professor Lockhart.

 

Over her lunch break, she decided to head to the hospital wing, rather than eating in the Great Hall.  She could always grab food afterwards.  When she entered the infirmary, Madam Pomfrey was stocking the potions cupboards.

 

  “Miss Potter!  What are you doing here?” Madam Pomfrey asked when she saw Rosie.  “Are you feeling unwell?”

 

  “Hello Madam Pomfrey.  I’m fine.  I’m actually here because I had a question for you.”

 

Madam Pomfrey smiled warmly.  “Eager as always - you couldn’t wait until tomorrow?”  However, when the matron noticed Rosie’s troubled expression, her smile turned into concern.

 

  “Is everything alright, Miss Potter?  What was it that you wished to ask?”

 

  “It’s about my brother, Harry,” Rosie told the matron.  Without being aware of it, Rosie’s hands were clutching at her robes nervously.

 

  “Is something wrong with Mr. Potter?  Is he ill?” the matron asked with worry.

 

  “Well - I’m not sure.  I used the diagnosis charm on him, and -” Rosie bit her lower lip uneasily.  “I saw black.  Mostly in his head.”

 

Madam Pomfrey’s eyes widened and she laid both hands on Rosie’s shoulder in a gesture of comfort.

 

 “Oh poor dear - I didn’t want you to find out this way.  The headmaster insisted it be kept quiet -”

 

 “The headmaster?  What does he have to do with this?  Are you saying Harry is cursed?” Rosie exclaimed, her voice high with bewilderment and anxiety.

 

 “Come, sit.  I shall explain,” Madam Pomfrey replied, leading Rosie to one of the hospital beds.  Rosie sat down, and her eyes were wide and fearful as she searched Madam Pomfrey’s face for answers.  At that moment, she looked every bit like the eleven year old that she was.  The matron’s heart went out to the child, having to discover such a thing about her brother.

 

 “The fact is that Harry’s scar is cursed - the scar he received from He Who Must Not Be Named,” the matron explained, her tone more gentle than usual.

 

 “What?  Harry’s been cursed since he was a baby?” Rosie cried out, shocked.  “But - but -”

 

 “Yes, Harry has been carrying the curse since he received it.  Unfortunately, we aren’t yet certain what the curse entails.  The headmaster has been keeping a close watch on your brother.  But the scar is undeniably cursed.”

 

  “Is - that is, in that diagnostics book - it said that some curses can’t be cured.  Is it like that for Harry?  Is he going to be stuck with this curse for the rest of his life?” 

 

  “I’m afraid I don’t have an answer for that.  Harry’s scar and curse is one-of-a-kind, as far as we are aware.  No one has ever survived the killing curse before,” Madam Pomfrey explained.

 

Rosie’s knuckles were white as she gripped the fabric of her robes over her knees.  Her face had lost all colour, and she felt completely helpless.  “Is - does - does Harry know about this?”

 

The matron shook her head. “No, Mr. Potter doesn’t know.  The headmaster wanted to keep it a secret - he felt that Harry deserved to have a childhood.”

 

  “What?  But -” Rosie’s thoughts were a confused whirl.  Should Harry know about this?  Was it right to keep it from him?

 

  “What does the curse do?” Rosie asked, after a pause.

 

  “We’re not sure - we don’t yet have an answer.  Has Harry said anything to you?  About the scar?” the matron inquired.

 

 “Well, I know it aches sometimes.  It ached a lot in his first year.  Harry told me it was especially bad in Professor Quirrell’s class,” Rosie replied.  “What happened to Professor Quirrell anyway?  Why doesn’t he teach anymore?”

 

Madam Pomfrey pursed her lips.  “The headmaster told us that the Professor had gone away, and wasn’t coming back.  He wouldn’t elaborate.”

 

 “Oh.”  Rosie was silent for a moment.  “Is there anything I can do to help Harry?

 

 “No, I don’t believe so.  But if Harry’s scar acts up at all, please inform me or the Headmaster immediately.  I’m sorry dear.”

 

Rosie sighed.  “Alright.  Thank you for telling me this, Madam Pomfrey.”

 

The matron nodded.  “I’ll see you tomorrow, Miss Potter.  Now go and have your lunch.  I can hear your stomach growling.”

 

Rosie was lost in thought as she made her way from the hospital wing towards the Great Hall.  As she turned a corner, she encountered Fred and George Weasley, who had just finished eating and were on their way towards Gryffindor Tower.

 

  “Rosie!” one of them called out.  Rosie really couldn’t tell them apart, so she just smiled politely.

 

  “That is your name right?  Or was it Rose?  Rosebud?” said the other.  Considering they had only spoken to her once (and it was a rather short introduction) she was surprised they even remembered at all.

 

  “Rosie,” said told them with a weak smile.  She was still feeling emotionally drained from discovering Harry’s curse.  “Hello George, Fred.  How are you two doing?”

 

The twins shared a glance.  “We’re having a bit of a dilemma.”

 

  “Oh?” Rosie asked.

 

  “Well, we’ve been trying to think up a way to prank that second year git, Draco,” said Fred

 

  “After that prank he pulled on all of us,” added George.

 

  “Wait - How do you know it was Draco?” Rosie asked.  She had had her own sources, but she was surprised the twins knew of Draco’s involvement.

 

  “Didn’t you see his face in the Great Hall?” asked George.

 

  “If he smiled any wider, his face would have cracked in half,” Fred scowled.

 

  “I suppose -” Rosie replied.  She looked at the twins curiously, wondering what they wanted.  They seemed to speak to Harry often (especially since they were in the same House and they were all on the Quidditch team).  She had occasionally seen them in the halls, and they would wave at her, but this was the first time they approached her.

 

  “Anyway, it’s been impossible to get Harry on his own, these past few days” Fred continued.

 

  “We usually run our ideas by him,” added George

 

 “He’s got good suggestions -”

 

 “Being an honorary Marauder and all,”

 

  “And he does usually let us try the new Marauder’s products in advance -”

 

 “Ah - so - what you’re saying is that, since you couldn’t get a hold of Harry, you thought you’d try me instead?  I guess I’m the back-up Harry?” Rosie asked.  

 

  “Well -”

 

  “We didn’t plan it as such -”

 

She smiled mischievously, her anxiety melting away in the face of the twin’s antics.  “And here I thought you were just being friendly.”

 

 “Of course we’re being friendly!” George exclaimed.

 

 “It’s just that we’d never hesitate to take advantage of an opportunity,” Fred concluded.

 

Rosie smiled.  “Fair enough.  So, what did you two have in mind?”

 

  “We considered turning his hair red and gold -”

 

 “Or casting the crying hex on him in the Great Hall -”

 

 “Or cursing him with uncontrollable flatulence -”

 

 “Hm - all fair ideas.  I’m guessing you’re goal is to humiliate him as much as possible?” Rosie asked.

 

  “Naturally,” they chorused.

 

 “We have a few more ideas -”

 

 “The plan is still in the works -”

 

 “Ah - you know, Sirius was telling me about one of his projects that might be suitable.  But - well -” Rosie trailed off.

 

 “Well?”

 

 “Well, I wouldn’t want you two to lose your edge - you know - relying on the Marauder’s products and all.” Rosie replied innocently.

 

 “Did she just accuse us of losing our edge, Fred?”

 

 “I think the little Eagle is asking for trouble, George.”

 

Rosie laughed.  “I’ve got more than enough trouble on my hands.  You  _ do _ know that many of these products are still experimental, don’t you?”

 

 “Well, that just adds to the fun,” George grinned.

 

 “You never know how well a product works unless you actually try it on someone,” added Fred.

 

 “Just think of it as - us, doing a favour to your Godfather.”

 

Rosie grinned.  “That’s an interesting way of spinning it.  Anyway, I don’t have it on hand - I’ll have to ask Sirius to owl it to me.”

 

 “Do tell -” both twins said.

 

 “It’s called a Crupcake - I think Sirius is still tweaking it.  I haven’t actually seen it in action.  Anyway, when the victim eats it, they’ll think they are a crup.  It doesn’t actually change them into a crup though  I know - that doesn’t sound all that exciting - but here’s the twist.  Not only do they think they’re a crup, but the prank allows you to choose who the ‘owner’ of the crup is.  Whoever eats the Crupcake will essentially spend the day worshipfully following their owner around, peeing all over chair legs, and eating anything you give them.  It’s - well - honestly, it’s hard to think of anything more humiliating than that.  Oh - and I think Sirius is making two flavours: Vanilla for a well behaved crup, and chocolate for a badly behaved crup,” Rosie explained. 

 

  “How soon can you get it?” the twins asked, with a gleam in their eyes.

 

 “Probably some time next week.  Sirius usually makes the cupcake from scratch, and - well - baking isn’t exactly his strength.  Especially since we have a house elf that usually cooks for us.  But - how do you plan on getting Draco to even eat it?  Slytherins are a pretty cautious lot.”

 

 “Just leave that to us,” the twins replied.

 

 “Oh - and one more thing -” Rosie added.  The twins looked at her expectantly.  “I’m sure you can tell from the description that it’s the sort of product that’ll never come to market, seeing as it uses some pretty strong compulsion charms on the victim.  Just - make sure no one knows where you got it from.  Sirius’d kill me if it ever got back to him.”

 

 “Never fear, little Eagle!” said George.

 

 “No one will ever know,” said Fred.

 

  “And also -”

 

  “Chocolate, please,” the twins grinned wickedly.

 

After a quick lunch, Rosie went to her final class of the day, Herbology.  She had noticed that since the day of the prank, the Slytherins had distanced themselves from the rest of the students.  The Ravenclaws were giving the Slytherin cold looks, and many of the Slytherins acted aloof and disdainful.  Rosie made an effort to be friendly to Luthais, Mathilda and even Harper.  She saw no reason to increase the interhouse conflict, and moreover, she had no interest in conforming to Ravenclaw behaviour.

 

Once classes were done for the day, Rosie and Luna headed for the library.  Rosie was hoping to see Harry there, and she wasn’t disappointed.  Rosie and Luna walked over to the table where Harry, Hermione and Neville were busy doing their homework.  There were books and papers everywhere, and the three of them were occupied with scribbling on parchment, or referencing their texts.

 

 “Hi Harry, Hermione, Neville,” Rosie said, giving them a weak smile.  The trio greeted her and Luna in reply.  Rosie and Luna sat down at the table and started pulling out their own homework.

 

 “How have you been? Rosie asked the trio.

 

 “Fine.  Well - Angry,” Hermione replied with a fierce expression on her face.  Rosie could tell she was still thinking about the prank.

 

 “Most of Gryffindor is pretty upset,” Neville added.  “It was a hideous thing to do.”

 

The group chatted about the prank for a bit.  Hermione railed against the Slytherins, and Neville agreed with most of what she said.  Harry was quieter than usual.  Rosie could tell through the link that he was not anxious, but he was certainly troubled.  He hadn’t yet brought up the incident with the diagnosis charm either.  Rosie found herself conflicted about whether she should tell Harry about his cursed scar.  How would he react?  Would it be the right thing to do?  Did Sirius know about this?  In the end, she was unable to decide.  She hated the idea of keeping secrets from Harry, but on the other hand, nothing could be done about the curse.  If she told him, he might end up worrying needlessly.

 

She tried to imagine how she would feel if she found out she had a curse.  Would she want to know?  If she did, she’d probably want to research anything at all that she could find about it.  She wouldn’t have been happy to remain in ignorance.  But she recognized that she and Harry weren’t the same - something she wanted might not be the same as what Harry would want.

 

Rosie had tuned out of the conversation that Harry and his friends were having.  When she started listening again, they were discussing their plans.

 

  “The polyjuice should be finished by next week,” Hermione was saying.  “We should use it before the Christmas break, since none of us are planning to stay at Hogwarts.”

 

  “Yeah, I don’t think I can wait until January to find out,” Neville added.

 

  “We just need to add the lacewings, and then the parts of Crabbe, Goyle and Bulstrode,” Harry said.

 

  “Should we do it on the weekend?” Hermione asked.  “Or in the evening?”

 

  “We’ll need to get Draco alone,” Harry said.  “I don’t think he’ll talk in a common room full of other people.”

 

  “Well, I don’t know,” replied Neville.  “I always thought Draco seemed like the sort who had to brag.  Would he really keep it a secret from other Slytherins?”

 

  “This would have been so much easier to do this over Christmas break,” Hermione sighed.

 

  “There’s no way my parents would let me stay over Christmas.  I wouldn’t want to be here when I could go home,” Neville said.

 

  “Yeah, as much as I do like Hogwarts, it is lovely to see my parents over the hols,” Hermione admitted.

 

  “Can you tell me what the transformation feels like?” Luna asked, curious.  “I’ve always wondered.”

 

  “Erm - sure Luna,” Neville replied, startled.  The trio seemed to have forgotten that Luna was at the table with them.

 

  “How are you planning to get pieces of the Slytherins?” Rosie asked.

 

  “We’ll probably try and get their hairs,” Harry explained.  “But - we still have some details to work out.”

 

  “I just know Draco’s responsible for all of it.  He has to be!” Neville exclaimed.

 

  “You’re still convinced he’s the Heir?” Rosie asked the group.

 

Harry and his friends nodded.  “It’s just too much for it to just be a coincidence,” Hermione reasoned.  “First, the Chamber of Secrets, and then covering muggleborns, and muggleborn supporters with snakes?  It all points to Slytherin.”

 

  “And it’s obvious that Draco hates muggleborns, and the so-called blood traitors” Harry added.  “Poor Ginny - she’s still really upset about the whole thing.”

 

  “Have you noticed how Ron shoots you daggers with his eyes, every time you talk to Ginny?” Neville asked.

 

Harry frowned.  “Who cares?  Ginny’s really nice.”

 

  “And she completely worships you,” Hermione added, rolling her eyes.  

 

  “She doesn’t worship me!” Harry exclaimed, his ears reddening.  “She’s just always been nice to me, sharing chocolate frogs and all that, so I’m just being nice to her.  She’s just a firstie anyway - this whole thing has been harder on the firsties than anyone else.”

 

Hermione and Neville nodded sympathetically.  Many of the students that decided to pull out of school were first years.

 

Harry and his friend spoke for a while longer about their plans.  When they got up to leave, Rosie made them promise that they would tell her immediately if they discovered anything.  While she still doubted that Draco was the Heir (she trusted the words of her Slytherin friends), she wanted to know how Draco had pulled off the snake bite prank.

 

November soon turned into December.  Many of the students at Hogwarts were still jumpy and nervous after the snake bite prank that had happened late last month.  Rumours were flying, thick and heavy, and it seemed that the Ravenclaws had more interesting and varied theories than most.

 

Almost all the Ravenclaws were convinced that the prank was related to the Chamber of Secrets, though some students thought that the Chamber didn’t actually exist.  Very few students believed that the events were independent.  With their research abilities, most of the Ravenclaws thought that the Chamber held a monster, but some students seemed to think the monster was a myth or perhaps a metaphor.

 

Some of the students thought that Duncan Inglebee’s petrification was the result of a dark wizard casting a curse on him or the result of a cursed item, but others speculated that it could be a gorgon, or a cockatrice, or the Svartálfar, or a basilisk.  A few students thought the whole thing was a hoax and a prank taken too far.  Some believed it was all the actions of Death Eaters.  There was a lot of speculation about whether all the Slytherins were involved, or whether it was only some of them.  But nearly all the students believed that the Slytherins were somehow at fault.

 

As all this was occurring, Toby continued his ‘friendly’ act towards Rosie.  Irritated about the whole matter, Rosie decided to strike back with her own displays of sickening sweet friendliness.  She had no desire for him to get the better of her.

 

They had been in the common room together, Toby sitting with his friends, and Rosie sitting across from Romulus, reading up on curses.  Toby had left his spot, and walked over to Rosie, sitting on the arm of her chair and ruffling her hair.  She longed to scowl at him.  Instead, she pasted a smile on her face and looked up at him.

 

  “Hello, little one,” said Toby in his silken honey-warm voice.

 

  “Hi - Tobs.”  Rosie kept her eyes locked on Toby’s, wondering how he would react to the obnoxious nickname.  There was a flicker of something in his eyes, but it lasted only an instant before it was gone.  Toby had immediately understood what she was trying to do.  Internally, he felt a bubbling amusement.  He could tell she wanted to provoke him.  After all, hadn’t she said that he was a fake?  The girl was too easy to read - it was obvious that she wanted to bring things to a head.  She wanted things out in the open for all to see.  Well, there was no way he would indulge her.

 

Toby smiled playfully, though as always, Rosie could see the hint of mockery in his eyes.  “What are you reading, sweet Rose?”

 

Rosie hoped her smile wasn’t turning into a grimace.  “Oh, I’m just reading up on curses.”

 

Toby leaned down, presumably to get a better look at the book, but Rosie had a feeling that he just wanted to invade her personal space and make her uncomfortable.  He examined the book and then turned his face to look at her.  “Would you like me to help you with anything?  I have extensive knowledge about curses.”

 

Rosie wanted to scream ‘No!  Go Away you Big Fake.’  Instead, she widened her eyes and her smile, and said, “Would you?  That’s so nice of you, Tobs!  You’re a true friend!”

 

The edge of Toby’s lips twitched.  “Anything for you, little one,” he replied gallantly.  And thus, she found herself having to endure more of Toby’s company than she ever would have wished.  Even though she wasn’t looking at Marietta and Sarah, she could feel their death glares.  As for Romulus who was sitting across from her, he was looking at her as though he thought she had suddenly lost all her wits.

 

Rosie had received the Crupcake by owl from Sirius on the second day of December.  Being the consummate prankster that he was, he did not even question her request for the item.  If anything, he seemed delighted that she was ‘living up to the family name,’ and he demanded that she tell him all about the results.  When Rosie gave the Crupcake to Fred and George, and asked them how they planned to get Draco to eat it, they just gave her a mysterious smile, and refused to reveal anything.

 

Thus, one evening in the Great Hall, Rosie was unsurprised to see the heads of all the students turning towards the Slytherin table, and the sound of excited and confused chatter.  The only question was, who would Draco-crup think was his owner?  Before long, students were laughing and pointing as the blond Slytherin bounded around the Hall on all fours, barking excitedly.  Draco-as-a-crup ran up to the muggle studies teacher, Professor Sheppard, and started pawing at the bewildered man, licking the side of is face.  The Professor’s expression was one of horror.  It seemed the twins had a strong sense of irony.

 

As students picked up on what was happening, there were calls of “here boy!”  “Come boy!”  “I’ve got some treats for you!”  The Gryffindors seemed especially thrilled to see what was happening, and they kept throwing food at the blond Slytherin, which he eagerly ate.  Though it was amusing, Rosie also couldn’t help but feel rather disturbed and guilty as well.  The prank was dangerously similar to casting the  _ imperius _ curse which took away the victim’s free will.  It was one thing to prank someone in good fun, but she knew that this experience wasn’t fun for the Slytherin boy.  

 

She found herself regretting giving the Crupcake to the Weasley twins.  While she could understand their desire for revenge, it was surprisingly painful to witness a person’s utter humiliation.  The prank had sounded funny in theory, but the reality of it was worse than she expected.  Through her link with Harry, she could tell that he wasn’t happy as well.  Though most of the other Gryffindors were delighted, Harry looked troubled.

 

The other Slytherins were watching Draco in shock and dismay.  Professor Snape had stood up, and called out: “Enough!”  which frightened some of the students, but was largely ignored by the Gryffindors, who felt that the Slytherins were getting their just desserts.  Professor Snape circled the High Table, and took Draco by the arm, awkwardly pulling the boy away.  Draco-as-a-crup looked uncomfortable trying to walk on two feet, and kept attempting to bend down on all fours.  Several of the Slytherins followed behind, concerned for their friend and housemate.

 

When Draco and Professor Snape had left the room, many of the students were chattering with gleeful excitement.  The teachers at the High Table were attempting to calm the students down, but they were largely ignored. When Rosie looked over at the Weasley twins, there was a glitter of vindication in their eyes, and she was thankful that they weren’t do anything to draw attention to themselves.

 

Eventually, the students in the Great Hall settled down.  Many of the students seemed more cheerful and happy, but the Slytherins seemed more guarded and isolated than ever.  It left Rosie wondering whether the Crupcake prank had just increased hostility between the Slytherins and the Gryffindors.  She suddenly wondered what she had been thinking when she suggested the idea to the Weasley twins.  Evidently, she hadn’t been thinking at all.

 

Though there were no major pranks since the Crupcake incident, there was an increase in fighting and attacks in the halls.  Jinxes and hexes were casted with complete disregard to the school rules, and many innocent students were caught in the crossfire.  Of course, the antagonism was the most intense between Gryffindors and Slytherins, but a large number of other students were involved.  The day after the Crupcake prank had been the worst - several students ended up in the hospital wing, and even though it wasn’t a day that Rosie usually went in to the infirmary to study, she had volunteered to help Madam Pomfrey.  The punishments doled out to the students had been severe, and since then, the hex war (as the students called it) continued, with the same fierce determination, but the jinxes and hexes thrown were no longer as damaging.  The students still wanted to maintain their conflict, but now it was a matter of pride, rather than actual harm.

 

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

 

Mathilda Travers couldn’t help but think that this was not a good year to be a Slytherin.  She was, of course, aware that the Slytherins had always stood apart from the other Houses in Hogwarts.  She knew that many witches and wizards were suspicious of Slytherins, and that the House of Slytherin was often synonymous with Dark Wizards and Dark Magic.  Nonetheless, it was the house of all her forebears, and it was a noble House to be in.

 

There were many things she liked about being a Slytherin.  She liked the core value of solidarity and looking out for one another.  She valued cleverness and cunning.  She saw the value of being ambitious and trying to reach one’s fullest potential.  Yet there were things she didn’t agree with as well.  For one, she didn’t believe that purebloods were superior to muggleborns - at least not in terms of skill and raw talent.  Of course, being a pureblood had other advantages - she was proud of wizarding culture and traditions.  She preferred the polished pureblood manners.  She took pride in being able to trace her ancestors, almost to the time of Merlin.  However, she had met far too many pureblood who were magically mediocre, and had met many talented and smart muggleborns and half-bloods.

 

That said, she was no muggle-lover either.  She had no strong inclination to learn about muggle culture.  She could easily believe that muggles were brutish and cruel - after all, muggles burned witches, didn’t they?  And she couldn’t help but think that muggleborns and half-bloods should be willing to leave the muggle world behind, and cut all ties.  It was difficult to imagine a world where muggles and magical beings lived together in peace.

 

So, in many ways Mathilda found that she could relate to the blood-traitors.  Oh, she could never bring herself to marry a muggleborn wizard - that just felt like too much of a break from tradition - but she thought that half-bloods would be acceptable, and understood the idea of welcoming the muggleborns and half-bloods into wizarding society with open arms.  After all, magic was magic.  If muggleborns had magic (and better yet, if they renounced muggle society), then they should be welcome in the wizarding world.  Mathilda was aware that most other Slytherins didn’t share her perspective.  Luthais was very tolerant of muggleborns and half-bloods but even he struggled to get past the bias of believing in pureblood superiority.

 

In many ways, Mathilda was an odd duck in the Slytherin House.  Naturally, she knew better than to speak her views out loud.  She didn’t even dare voice her opinions to her own family.  She had a perfectly healthy self-preservation instinct, and had no desire to be ostracized by the other Slytherins.  It was this very self-preservation instinct that made her think that the recent events that had occurred were the height of foolishness.

 

She and her friend were fairly certain that the snake bite prank could be laid upon Draco’s doorstep, and it would have been fine if they were the only ones to think so, but thanks to Draco’s hubris and the belief that he was somehow untouchable as a Malfoy, it seemed as though most of the rest of the school blamed him for the prank as well.  Wasn’t this recently made as clear as glass when Draco was pranked into acting like an untrained crup?  As much as Mathilda thought Draco deserved to be revenged upon, it was still humiliating to watch one of the Slytherins brought so low.  

 

Mathilda thought back to that particular evening.  It had been like any other supper in the Great Hall.  She was sitting next to Luthais at the end of the Slytherin Table.  Across from her was Astrid and her friends, and diagonal to her was Draco and his entourage.  She had noticed that Astrid had brought a lovely looking chocolate cupcake to the table, and once the main course was finished, Astrid stood up and offered the cupcake to Draco.  It had struck her as being a little strange at the time.  Mathilda was aware that Astrid looked up to Draco, but Astrid also was a pureblood young lady.  Usually, pureblood women expected to receive gifts from gentlemen, rather than giving them.

 

It was when Draco started eating the cupcake that the normalcy of the supper was completely shattered.  In retrospect, Mathilda couldn’t help but wonder what Draco was thinking, eating that cupcake so soon after the snake bite prank.  He should have been on his guard, and should have been suspicious of everything, but it seemed that Draco was just too arrogant, and too certain of his father’s power to think that anything could happen to him.  Mathilda couldn’t help but think of Professor Snape’s speech about the Slytherin traits.  Draco embodied so few of them.

 

Unfortunately for the Slytherins, since the rest of the school was aware that Slytherins were a tight knit group, by blaming Draco, the other Houses seemed to think it was fair to blame all of Slytherin.  And because the Slytherins were in fact a tight knit group, by attacking Draco, it meant the battle lines had been drawn.  Whether or not the Slytherins agreed with Draco’s initial actions or not, they had to look out for their own, even if it meant that the conflict had turned into a full scale undercover hex war.  Well, mostly undercover - there were a few students foolish enough to get caught by the teachers or by Filch.  And in truth, the teachers at Hogwarts were extremely perceptive - there was no denying that they knew what was happening behind their backs.

 

And so, Mathilda found herself questioning being sorted into Slytherin House.  As happy as she had been to be a Snake, she wasn’t particularly pleased to be stuck with the likes of the Malfoy Heir.  But she did like her Slytherin friends, and she liked the few students that she spoke to outside of the Slytherin House, such as Primrose Potter in Ravenclaw.

 

Since the snake bite and crup prank, the Slytherins (as well as the other Houses) had been furiously sending owls back and forth to their parents.  The events were simply too dramatic to ignore, and so, it was no surprise when Lucius Malfoy, Draco’s father, had swept into Hogwarts’ Entrance Hall the day after the crup prank, demanding the expulsion of the guilty students, as well as the removal of the headmaster for failing to protect his beloved Heir.  The headmaster had ushered the senior Malfoy up to his office, and after a long discussion, Lucius had come back down, looking as furious as ever, since his wishes had undoubtedly been thwarted.

 

Mathilda knew that after the prank, the senior Malfoy had tried to pull his son out of Hogwarts and transfer him to the Durmstrang Institute instead.  Durmstrang was certainly more open to the Dark Arts, and their rejection of muggleborn witches and wizards was a view that fell in line with many pureblood families.  Curiously enough, Draco had refused to go.  Despite his humiliation, there was the fire of revenge in his eyes.  In the end, Lucius Malfoy had relented, and allowed his son to stay, promising to do his utmost to have Professor Dumbledore removed from his position.

 

It was early December, about a week after Draco had been pranked and humiliated in the Great Hall.  Mathilda was in the Slytherin common room, working on her homework with Luthais and Harper Harris.  She and her friends were sitting by one of the grand tapestries that depicted a Medieval Slytherin warlord riding the back of an Aethonan winged horse into war.  Across the room, she could see Astrid Rowle with her friends  Amphillis Burke and Casper Shettigar.  Astrid’s expression was somewhere between angry and hopelessly miserable.  Since the day of the prank, Draco had been furious with Astrid.  Once the effects of the prank wore off, Draco had immediately wanted to attack Astrid (which was shocking because one simply did not attack pureblood ladies).  If not for Crabbe and Goyle holding Draco back (and who knew that they had the wits to do such a thing), then Astrid likely would have been hexed or even cursed.  Draco undoubtable knew some very painful curses, but then again, many of the other Slytherins did as well.

 

Surprisingly, Astrid had cast aside her pride, and had begged and pleaded with Draco to forgive her.  She claimed that she couldn’t even remember what she did, and had no clue how it happened.  Astrid was tearful and abject, and had promised to do anything in her power to make it up to Draco, but unfortunately for Astrid, Draco refused to forgive her.  It seemed that Draco was the only one who failed to see Astrid’s point of view.  The rest of the Slytherins were aware of how much Astrid looked up to Draco.  It was painfully obvious that Astrid practically saw Draco as some sort of demi-god.  Thus, most of the Slytherin House was sympathetic towards Astrid and her plight.  Sadly for Astrid, she really only cared about Draco’s opinion, and Draco was determined to see the worse.

 

Draco was also in the common room that day, sitting by one of the windows that showed the bottom of the lake.  Every so often, silvery fish would dart up to the window before swimming away.  While many other students would have hid themselves away in their dorm after being humiliated, Draco was far too proud to slink off with his tail between his legs.  He sat on the blackish-green leather sofa as though he owned the room.  Curiously, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle weren’t with him.  Mathilda found herself wondering where the pair of second years were, when they suddenly entered the common room, trailing behind one of the third years who had opened the entryway.

 

Vincent and Gregory might not have been the brightest of students, but for some reason, they looked especially daft this afternoon.  As they entered the passage into the common room, they were practically gawking as though they had never been in the common room before.  They were followed by another second year, Millicent Bulstrode, who nudged them both rather aggressively with her elbow.  Vincent and Gregory snapped their mouths shut, and looked around the room.  Were they looking for Draco?  It would have been odd if they were, since Draco almost always sat in the same spot.

 

Mathilda glanced at Luthais and Harper to see if they had noticed Vincent, Gregory, and Millicent’s odd behavior.  Harper was engrossed in finishing his charms essay, but Luthais was looking at the trio of second years curiously.  Mathilda and Luthais shared a look before turning their attention back at the second years to see what they were up to.  The rest of the students in the common room seemed content to ignore the second years.  Most of the other Slytherins were rather eager to finish all their homework and assignments before the winter break.

 

Vincent and Gregory lumbered towards Draco, looking as though they expected to be pounced upon at any time.  Their eyes were wide, and their gait was stiff.  Millicent looked as though she were furiously whispering something to the pair of boys.  That itself was rather odd - Millicent never seemed all that close to Draco and his friends.  True, Millicent and Pansy Parkinson sometimes interacted with Draco, Vincent and Gregory.  But in those cases, Pansy did most of the talking while Millicent would hang back.

 

Vincent and Gregory sat down across from Draco on a set of chairs, and Draco gave them his characteristic sneer.  The Malfoy heir did not appear to notice anything unusual in their behaviour.  As for Millicent, she was circling the room, observing the other students.  Draco was speaking to Vincent and Gregory - or perhaps speaking wasn’t the right word for it.  From the looks of it, he was complaining about his mistreatment, and probably discussing the ways he would make the Gryffindors pay for what they had done.  Gregory seemed to be asking Draco a question and Draco looked at him oddly, before shrugging and answering.

 

Mathilda looked over at Luthais again, and in his eyes were the same questions she was mentally asking herself: What was going on?  Why were the second years behaving so oddly?  Gregory seemed to ask Draco another question, and this time, Draco narrowed his eyes with suspicion.  However, Vincent spoke up, and after a couple of seconds, Draco rolled his eyes, and answered the question.  Mathilda scanned the room to see what Millicent was doing.  She appeared to be speaking to Pansy Parkinson.  Pansy was a bit of a gossip, so she was dominating the conversation while Millicent nodded.  Based on Pansy’s annoyed expression, Millicent was asking unpleasant questions.

 

Then, strangely, before the hour was up, Millicent cut short the conversation with Pansy, and stood a bit behind Draco’s sofa, tilting her head with jerky movements towards the common room exit.  When Vincent and Gregory spotted her, they shot up, startling Draco, and the trio of third years dashed out of the common room as though they had an angry Fire Crab nipping at their heels.

 

When they were gone, Mathilda turned towards Luthais.  “What was that?”

 

  “I have no clue,” Luthais replied, as bewildered as she was.

 

  “Should we - follow them?” Mathilda asked her friend.

 

Luthais considered the question.  “No.  We’ll probably find out soon enough.”

 


	15. Chapter 15

Rosie was packing up her schoolbag, as Professor McGonagall informed the class that she wanted thirteen inches of parchment based on this day’s lecture due the following week.  Transfigurations was the last class of the day for the first year Ravenclaws, and a group of them were travelling to the Ravenclaw Nest together.  Since the commencement of the guerilla hex wars, most students had ceased to traverse the hallway alone.  However, Romulus was an exception.  Somehow, he managed to avoid conflict altogether, and did not seem troubled by the idea of being caught by a wayward jinx.  Of course, Rosie also knew that Romulus regularly trained in the Come and Go room, either with or or without her, and that his skills in combat were above average.

 

Rosie was walking next to Luna, but Edine and Sakiko were hovering annoyingly close by.  The two girls had the belief that if they spent more time with Rosie, then Toby would end up noticing them.  It was ridiculous of course, and Rosie had snapped at them a few times, but the girls seemed to think that Rosie just wanted to hog Toby’s attention all to herself.  Moreover, Rosie still resented Edine and Sakiko for how they treated Luna.  Trying to ignore the annoying pair of Ravenclaw girls, Rosie thought back to a conversation she had had over the weekend with Harry and his friends. They had finally finished brewing their polyjuice potion late last week, and decided to use it in the afternoon, hoping the Slytherin dungeon wouldn’t be as busy as it might be in the evening or on the weekend.  The polyjuice potion had turned out perfectly, just as they expected, and the transformation resulted in a  remarkable exactness (though sadly, Rosie was in class and did not get to witness it herself.)

 

Following the use of the polyjuice potion, the group of them were in the library that weekend, as usual, discussing the results of their foray into the Slytherin common room.  Rather than being vindicated in their assumptions about Draco, Harry and his friends found themselves in a quandary instead.

 

  “I still can’t believe that Malfoy isn’t the Heir,” Neville was saying.  “Do you reckon he was lying about it?”

 

  “I’m afraid not,” Hermione replied.  “Pansy told me that none of the Slytherins knew who the Heir was.  She kept saying that once she found out, she would pledge her allegiance immediately and that she couldn’t wait for the Heir to purge the school of mud - muggleborns.”  Hermione’s expression was grim.

 

 “But Malfoy did pretty much admit to the snake bite prank,” Harry added. “Well - it was hard to ask him about it.  He kept giving us suspicious looks.”

 

  “It was a good thing you told him that you just wanted to hear him talk about it again because of how much you admired him.  I’m surprised that Malfoy hasn’t yet been crushed under the weight of his own ego,” Neville said, wryly.

 

  “Yeah -  I used to think that maybe his smugness was just sort of a show he put on for Gryffindors, but apparently, he’s smug all the time,” Harry said thoughtfully.

 

 “This is a surprise to you?” Neville replied, with an amused quirk of his lips.

 

 “But you did say that Draco didn’t actually make the prank, didn’t you?” Hermione asked.

 

 “I think so.  It was hard to question him about it.  He likes to talk about his own accomplishments rather than giving credit to others,” Harry told her.

 

 “But he mentioned something about receiving a package by owl,” Neville added.

 

 “And - apparently, the package was from the actual Heir,” Harry said, softly.  “Malfoy seemed to think that the Heir had specifically chosen him to carry out his important work.”

 

 “Yeah.  Malfoy is convinced that he has a special position with the Heir because he was the only one that the Heir contacted,” Neville continued.

 

 “Was there some kind of message that Draco got with the package?” Rosie asked.  She was unsurprised by what Harry and his friends had found out, but what she really wanted to know was who Draco got the tattoo potion from.

 

 “He implied there was a message, but he wouldn’t show us.  I got the feeling that he showed the original Crabbe and Goyle and couldn’t be bothered to show us again,” Harry replied.

 

 “And he kept talking about how Snape didn’t want to see a shred of evidence that could get the Slytherins in trouble - so, he might have tossed the message,” Neville added.

 

 “Or hidden it,” Harry suggested.

 

 “Hm - I would have liked to see that message,” Hermione said thoughtfully.  “A lot can be revealed in a message.”

 

Rosie found herself agreeing.  While Harry and his friend’s experience had been interesting, in the end, she had learned nothing new.  Luna, who had been sitting with the group had asked what the polyjuice transformation had felt like, and between Harry, Neville and Hermione, they were able to give a rather graphic and detailed description of the experience.  Rosie found it disturbing but Luna was fascinated.

 

Rosie’s attention was brought back to the present as the group of first year Ravenclaws made their way back to their Nest without any incident.  Despite the widespread nature of the hex wars, the jinxes and hexes rarely did any major damage to any of the students.  Most of them knew better than to do anything that would cause a student to need to go to the infirmary.  Especially considering the harshness of the penalties that were doled out on that first day after the Crupcake prank.  As much as the Slytherins and Gryffindors might hate one another, they also knew that an overly vicious and aggressive battle could cause the school to shut down.  None of the students seemed to want that to happen.

 

Nonetheless, the jinxes and hexes used were varied and often creative.  Many of them were humiliating or uncomfortable.  Some were simply ridiculous.  In a way, the hex war was more about seeing who could get the most hits in.  It was a matter of proving superiority, rather than actually causing damage.  

 

Feeling drained by recent events, Rosie went up to her dorm room, and threw herself on her bed.  Despite all the chaotic events that had been occurring, Rosie found herself thinking a lot about Harry.  She had noticed that the black outs in her empathic link seemed to be increasing, either in frequency or in length.  Somehow, despite all the black outs, she rarely ever encountered him during one of those states.  Once or twice, she saw him in passing, when their link was blackened, but he had just waved and smiled at her.  It made her question her own judgement.  Was she just paranoid?  She often wondered if the black outs were related to the curse, but if Harry had been cursed since he was a baby, wouldn’t she have noticed black outs earlier?

 

In moments like these, Rosie couldn’t help but wish that she had been sorted into Gryffindor, like Harry.  When Harry had gone off to Hogwarts for his first year, Rosie remembered wishing that she could be in Hogwarts too, so she could be closer to her brother.  But now, despite being here, she felt more distant from him than ever.  Could this all be related to Harry’s cursed scar?  She had been spending most of her free time reading up on all that she could about curses, but the amount of information was simply too vast.  Furthermore, she still hadn’t decided whether or not to tell Harry about the scar.  Keeping secrets from him felt so wrong.

 

Rosie knew that she should have been working on her homework, but instead, she picked up the book  _ Curses and Counter-Curses: A Theoretical Framework _ , and decided to read that instead.  Luna also seemed disinclined to do homework, and after spending an hour or so working on her feathery hat, she flopped on her bed and read the newest edition of  _ The Quibbler _ .  After reading for a couple of hours, Rosie could feel her link with Harry blacking out.  It was maddening that there was so little information about empathic links, and no useful information about Harry’s curse.  Her concentration gone, Rosie set the book aside.  

 

  “Do you feel like going for a walk around the Castle before supper?” Rosie asked Luna. 

 

Luna set down her magazine as she contemplated the idea.  “Yes - this edition mentions a secret arithmancy pattern that can be found in the stonework of buildings.  It’s supposed to confer a certain sort of benevolent consciousness into the structure.  I want to try and find it.”

 

  “Hm - I could never really make sense of arithmancy.  Do you have any idea where we should start?” Rosie asked curiously.  

 

  “The Grand Staircase.  It feels very central,” Luna suggested.

 

  “But - the walls are all covered in portraits!  How will you be able to examine the stonework?”

 

  “We can always take down the portraits, or examine the stairs themselves” Luna replied.  Rosie had never once considered trying to take down the portraits, but she imagined that if they asked nicely, the portraits wouldn’t mind.  Their course of action decided, the pair of Ravenclaws descended Ravenclaw tower and headed towards the Grand Staircase.  On their way, they dodged a stray tickling hex, but aside from that, there were no mishaps.

 

It turned that there were very few portraits that could be taken down in the Grand Staircase.  Many of the inhabitants of the portraits objected.  Several portraits were stuck to the wall because of sticking charms.  And the portraits that did allow themselves to be removed resulted in nauseous inhabitants, who then jumped to other portraits rather than endure the dizzying sensation.  In the end, Luna decided to examine the stairs and the bannisters.  Interestingly, the pair of first years discovered runic patterns hidden on the undersides of the bannisters of the stairs, but Rosie lacked the requisite knowledge of runes to be able to decipher their meaning.  Luna, who had a significantly greater understand of runes was very fascinated by what they had found.

 

As Rosie was sitting on a step, poking her finger at a trick step, she noticed Nearly Headless Nick floating toward her.

 

Rosie grinned and waved. “Hello Sir Nicholas.  Not with Harry today?”

 

The ghost swept a bow and then beamed at the mention of Harry.  “Ah, Harry - good lad, good lad.  One of the best!”  Surprisingly, the ghost then embarked on a lengthy oration, extolling Harry’s numerous virtues.  It struck Rosie as a bit excessive.  Did the ghost really like Harry that much, just because he attended Sir Nick’s deathday party?  Luna, who had noticed the ghost, sat down on the step next to Rosie and tilted her head, as she considered Sir Nick’s words.  Eventually, the ghost realized that he was the only one speaking, and with a sheepish expression, he said a quick goodbye and then departed.

 

  “Hm - it’s remarkable how your brother has experienced such an increase in charisma,” Luna said in her dreamy way.  Rosie turned and looked at her friend.  It was an odd way to phase the statement.  As though ‘charisma’ was something external that had happened to Harry, rather than Harry developing his social skills.  Rosie was aware that her link to Harry was still black, so she couldn’t get a sense of what he was feeling.  But whenever she did sense him, he did seem much more confident and self-assured.  She had simply assumed that it was a good thing.  Could charisma and confidence be bestowed on a person?  Was it part of the curse?  Rosie shook her head lightly.  Her thoughts didn’t seem to make sense anymore.  How could a curse make someone more charismatic - weren’t curses supposed to be - well, harmful?

 

She was distracted from answering Luna, and also distracted from her own thoughts when she suddenly heard a soft hissing from the walls.  It sounded rather distant, but she recognized it immediately.

 

  “ _ So….. Hungry….. Hungry…. must….tear…..must….rip….. _ ”  

 

The voice sounded like it was coming from one of the lower levels.  Rosie was immediately concerned.  How was the poor snake still alive, if it had this ravenous for so long?

 

 “I hear that snake again,” Rosie told Luna.  “I’m going to see if I can find it.”

 

 “I’ll come with you,” Luna replied.  The girls stood up, and scampered down the stairs and off into the corridors.  However, to Rosie’s disappointment, the snake did not speak again.  She had even pressed her ear against the wall, hoping to hear its hissing, but she was met with only silence.  After a fruitless search, Rosie and Luna went to the Great Hall for supper.

 

The following day, Rosie met up with Harry for their weekly call to Sirius.  She noticed that during these meetings, she never felt the black outs in the link.  Certainly, that ever present darkness was there, but it remained tucked away in it’s own corner of the link.  As the pair of them walked to their usual alcove, Rosie tried to examine how Harry felt.  She could sense an edge of stress, but that was unsurprising, considering the guerilla hex war.  But underlying that was a firm self-assurance.  That anxiety that used to be so prevalent was largely gone.  It was curious, how easily she was able to brush aside that absence of anxiety.  Rosie wondered if she would be able to sense charisma, but unfortunately, charisma wasn’t an emotion.

 

 “ _ How have you been _ ?” she asked her brother in parseltongue.  _ “I see that your hair is no longer green today _ .”

 

Harry laughed.  “ _ Well, I got those Slytherins back - I could have turned their hair red, but I opted for pink instead. _ ”

 

  “ _ Don’t you sometimes think this whole thing going a bit too far? _ ” Rosie asked. 

 

Harry pursed his lips. “ _ Well - what happened to Malfoy was kind of cruel.  I don’t like him, but - _ ”

 

Rosie nodded.  “ _ Yeah. _ ”  She couldn’t help but feel guilty about the part she played.  She sighed heavily. “ _ It was actually kind of - my fault. _ ”

 

  “What?” Harry exclaimed, too surprised to answer in parseltongue.

 

  “ _ I didn’t - I didn’t mean for it to happen that way.  It was so stupid - I wasn’t thinking _ ,” Rosie confessed miserably.  “ _ I should have told you sooner - there’s been a lot on my mind.  And we haven’t really had a chance to speak alone. _ ”

 

  “ _ What happened?  Are you telling me you did that to Draco? _ ” Harry asked.

 

  “ _ I - I gave one of Padfoot’s projects to the Weasley twins. _ ” 

 

Harry frowned. “ _ Those two did seem pretty happy with themselves last week.  Hm. _ ”

 

The pair of them were silent for a moment as they walked along the corridor.

 

 “ _ Look - I can tell you didn’t mean for things to happen this way.  It was unfortunate.  But I know you’re not the sort who likes to hurt people.  And I know you won’t do it again,”  _ Harry said.

 

  “ _ I won’t! _ ” Rosie hissed vehemently.  “ _ I guess I’m so used to pranks being between you, me and Padfoot - I didn’t consider how a prank would look in front of the whole school. _ ”

 

 “ _ I know, _ ” Harry replied, understandingly.  Rosie was trying to hold back tears, and Harry wrapped an arm around her shoulder.  Rosie had meant to ask Harry whether he could hear the snake in the walls, but her confession had completely distracted her, and the matter slipped her mind entirely.

 

Once the pair of them reached the alcove, they sat down, and called Sirius on the mirror.  It took several minutes before he answered.

 

 “Hey pups!” Sirius said smiling affectionately.  “How have you two been?  Finding a lot of trouble, I hope!”

 

Harry rolled his eyes and grinned.  “Only you would hope we find trouble.  I’m pretty sure a normal guardian hopes for the opposite.”

 

  “And we’ve had way more trouble than we could ever want,” Rosie added with a sigh.

 

  “What happened?  How did the Crupcake turn out?” Sirius asked curiously.  Rosie frowned.

 

  “Did it not work?” Sirius asked.  “I was pretty sure I had perfected that project.”

 

  “It worked,” Rosie replied miserably.  “A little too well.”  Rosie looked towards Harry, and her eyes were pleading, as though she wanted him to explain.  Harry gave her a quick nod, and then told Sirius about the Weasley twins and Draco Malfoy.  And of course, Sirius being Sirius, he could only laugh and slapped his knee with delight.  Though Rosie still felt guilty, Sirius’s amusement made her feel slightly better.  She couldn't help thinking that when it came to pranks, his conscience somehow seemed to magically disappear.

 

 “Merlin’s beard, I wish I could have been there!” Sirius exclaimed.  “It really is a shame that that project will never be on the shelves.  It’s one of my finer works.”

 

 “Frankly, if that project ever ended up in stores, I’d never eat a cupcake again,” Rosie said, darkly.  Sirius only laughed in response.

 

 “Anyhow, pups - since you mentioned writing to Moony, I decided I’d try reaching out to him again,” Sirius told them.

 

 “Really?  He never mentioned it in the letters he’s wrote me,” Rosie replied.  She and Remus communicated weekly, and the more she got to know him, the more she liked him.  He had opened up a great deal the past few weeks.

 

 “He hasn’t told me either,” Harry said.  Harry had also been writing Remus, though not as frequently as Rosie wrote to him.

 

Sirius grinned. “Well, Moony has always been a quiet one.”

 

Rosie nodded.  “Indeed.  Letters are quite quiet, aren’t they?”

 

 “That’s not what I meant!  Anyway, we’ve been talking about having a get together over Christmas,” Sirius continued.

 

 “Really?  We’ll actually get to see him?” Rosie exclaimed excitedly.  “Is Rom coming too?  I hope so!”  

 

 “Yep, it’ll be all of us, like a family again!” Sirius replied cheerfully.

 

Rosie glanced towards Harry, making her eyes big and watery.  “Harry,” she said, putting a deliberate waver in her voice.  “He - he just suggested that we’re not like a family.”

 

  “There, there” Harry replied, patting her shoulder.  “I still love you.”

 

Sirius paled.  “That’s not what I meant!  No!!  Don’t cry!  Pup, no!!  I’ll buy you anything you want - just -”

 

Harry and Rosie were already laughing at Sirius’s distress.  “Oh Padfoot,” Rosie sighed. “I’m pretty sure you’ve already bought me everything money can buy.  But when I see you over christmas break, I expect a lot of snuggles from Snuffles.”

  
  “Done!” Sirius declared, relieved that a crisis was averted.  Sometimes he couldn’t help but feel that he wasn’t really cut out to be a guardian - at least, not a responsible one.  Rosie, Harry, and Sirius spoke for a while longer, about classes, the hex war, and some of Sirius’s new projects.  And as usual, she felt a sense of warmth and comfort after her conversation with her beloved godfather.

Later that evening, Rosie headed towards the hospital wing for her lessons in healing.  To her surprise, she noticed that the curtained area that hid the petrified students had expanded.  Did this mean that another student had been petrified?  There had been no word of it at all - but then again, when the first year Gryffindor boy was petrified, the headmaster had insisted that the Gryffindors keep it a secret.  Considering the number of students that had decided to return home after last month's events, it was a secret that was easy to keep.  Instead of assuming that a student had been petrified, they would probably assume that the student had been pulled out of school by worried parents.

 “Madam Pomfrey?” Rosie called out.  From behind the privacy curtain, Madam Pomfrey emerged, and Rosie saw a glimpse of a pair of shoes on the hospital bed.  She was wide-eyed as she looked up at the matron.

 “Not a word about this, Miss Potter,” the matron said sternly.  Rosie nodded.  She wondered if it was a student she knew - it probably wasn’t a Ravenclaw.  The Ravenclaws would be abuzz if it was one of their own.  And if it was a Gryffindor, then Harry would have surely mentioned something earlier.  So that meant it was a Hufflepuff or a Slytherin.  Rosie had a feeling that it was probably a Hufflepuff.  What could be causing this?  She thought about the various theories of the Ravenclaws.  A dark wizard?  A Death Eater curse?  A monster?  Rosie found herself imaging a gorgon or cockatrice running loose in the school, and she shivered.  Harry had mentioned that there was a troll last year, so it was all too plausible.  And who could be sure what kind of monster the Chamber of Secrets could hide.

She was distracted from her train of thoughts when a bruised looking older Gryffindor entered the infirmary, supported by a pair of his friends.  

  “What happened, Mr. Hooper!” The matron exclaimed, when she saw the trio coming in.

  “Erm - I - fell down the stairs,” the Gryffindor boy replied.  Madam Pomfrey frowned.  She was aware of the hex war - all the teachers were.  It was maddening when the students tried to keep things covered up though.  How was she supposed to help the students when they couldn’t even be honest.  Rosie guessed that Mr. Hooper had probably been hit by a tripping jinx or something similar, and fell down a few steps.  He was cradling one of his arms, and walking with a limp.

As usual, she was expected to practice casting the diagnosis spell on the injured students.  And once again, Rosie could sense their emotions in the back of her head and neck.  Mr. Hooper seemed to feel a mix of embarrassment for having been hit by the jinx, as well as desire for revenge.  Those emotions had certainly been common in the past week.  It was fortunate that for the most part, the hexes cast had been relatively mild, aside from that first day after the Crupcake prank.  And with so many patients to cast the diagnosis spell on, Rosie found that she was learning a lot.  In one case, she even discovered a student that was starting to come down with a mild cold, and they were given a potion to prevent it from happening.  Yet, as interesting as learning about healing was (even if most of what she did was limited to observations), her mind kept turning back to the most recently petrified student.  If this continued to happen, she didn’t think that she would have any more faith in the safety of Hogwarts.

Rosie kept expecting the situation to escalate in the weeks before Christmas break, but instead, tempers appeared to have cooled down.  The hex war continued to persist of course, and while some students like Draco took it extremely seriously, others almost saw it as a game.  In class, when Rosie spoke to Mathilda and Luthais, they informed her that someone had posted up a board, where Slytherins could keep score of every jinx and hex that successfully hit a Gryffindor.  Rosie was amused to discover from Harry and his friends that the Gryffindors had independently come up with the same idea.  Unfortunately, due to the hostilities between Gryffindors and Slytherins, neither of them knew who was ‘winning’ but since Rosie spoke to both Gryffindors and Slytherins, she knew that they were fairly evenly matched.

Remus had informed her in a letter that he and Romulus would be visiting on Christmas eve and would be staying the night until Christmas day.  Sirius later confirmed this in a mirror call.  Thus, Rosie suddenly found herself worrying about what presents she would buy for everyone.  She knew that both Remus and Romulus liked to read, but she was unsure of what they may have already read.  Sirius wasn’t an avid reader, but she could always buy him something Quidditch related.  As for Harry - well, Harry was tricky.  Neither Rosie nor Harry truly wanted for anything growing up, and it was hard to shop for someone who seemed to already have it all.  She had decided she would buy something for Luna as well, but Luna’s gift was easy enough.  While looking through a novelty chocolate and candy catalogue that one of the Ravenclaws, Alec Perriss had received one morning, she noticed a selection of magical chocolates and marzipan that included dirigible plums as a flavour.  As soon as she saw it, she ordered it immediately.

After one of her combat practice sessions in the maze of the Come and Go room, Rosie had asked Romulus what he wanted for Christmas.  The expression he gave her was one of disbelief.

  “Why does it even matter?” he had asked.

  “Well, you and Remus are going to be visiting us for Christmas - so -”

Romulus scowled.  “I don’t want anything.”

  “Hm - well, I’ll probably get you something anyway.”

Romulus looked less than pleased.  It was a moment before he spoke.  “What do you want?”

  “Me?” Rosie replied.  “Uh - I haven’t really even thought about it.” Rosie laughed lightly.

  “I suppose -” Rosie’s thoughts turned to Harry.  “Maybe a book?  About curing curses.”

Romulus’s expression was inscrutable, but he nodded.  As usual, the pair of them reverted back to their usual silence, as they returned to the Ravenclaw Nest together.  It often seemed like they understood each other better in silence than they did in dialogue.

Aside from Christmas presents, constantly keeping a lookout for Toby, and worrying about the monster in Hogwarts, the only other thing that affected Rosie’s state of mind before Christmas was the black outs in her empathic link with Harry.  But of course, this had been a constant concern of her’s since September when she first noticed the darkness.  There had been a few days when the link had completely blacked out for over eight hour stretches, and it saddened her that the disconnection between her and Harry seemed to be increasing.  She still wasn’t entirely certain if the black outs were related to the curse, or if they were just a part of growing up, but either way, she didn’t like it.  In all honesty, she was more inclined to believe that the black outs were curse-related.  Wasn’t that what the diagnosis spell had suggested?  

In the month of December, she felt like she had barely had the chance to see Harry at all - he was so preoccupied with school, friends, and dodging stray jinxes.  In fact, the last few calls with Sirius had felt very rushed, as though Harry barely had time to sit still and chat, but at least during those times, their link was relatively strong.

Rosie had actually sometimes seen Harry in the Great Hall having meals during those extended black outs, but from a distance, she couldn’t define anything obvious about Harry that was out of place.  At least, his appearance remained familiar.  However, his behaviour always seemed different, in a way she couldn’t put her finger on.  She had considered approaching him during the meals.  It was odd but during these black outs, he acted like he was at the center of a social circle of Gryffindors, and she couldn’t bring herself to intrude.  It was strange to even feel like an intruder in Harry’s life.  She was his sister - shouldn’t that count for something?  But then, she would find herself feeling guilty.  Harry appeared to have gained a lot of friends.  Not just Hermione and Neville, but suddenly, many of the other Gryffindors, though it seemed like Seamus and his friends still acted a bit standoffish.  Was she just being selfish, by wanting more of her brother’s attention?  She thought sometimes that she was imagining it, but during those black outs, it was as though Harry had acquired some sort of strange magnetism.  Rosie suddenly recalled Luna’s words: an increase in charisma.

She was so accustomed to almost never seeing Harry during the black outs in their link (other than the occasional meal times and sometimes briefly between classes), that it came as a surprise to her, when she encountered him one day in the halls, about a week before the students would be going home to their families.  It was one of those days when the link had been blacked out for hours on end.  It was a strangely unsettling experience.  She was so used to feeling his emotions, that seeing him, without feeling anything from him felt extremely surreal.

  “Harry!” she had exclaimed, wide-eyed with surprise.  Why did it feel like she was talking to a doppelganger, or like a stranger who had used polyjuice to appear like her brother? 

  “Hey, Rosie,” Harry had replied.  His eyes had crinkled warmly when he smiled, but she wanted to shiver.  It looked like him, but at the same time, it didn’t look right.  She couldn’t even explain what the difference was.

  “Are you heading to the library?” she asked, trying to act casual.  But telling herself to act casual was probably a surefire way to fail at being casual.

 “In a bit,” Harry replied.  He seemed to be examining her.  Assessing her.  Rosie suddenly noticed that Harry seemed very intense.  Had he always been this intense?  His emerald green eyes appeared to almost glow, and for some reason, she kept getting the impression of immense magical power radiating from Harry.

 “Erm - where are you headed then?” she asked awkwardly.  Harry smiled at her again, and it felt like her world was spinning.  He was too intense - far too intense.  Why did his eyes feel like portals that she could fall into and never escape from?

 “I just needed to speak to one of the Professors about my assignment,” Harry replied smoothly.  It suddenly occurred to Rosie that Harry’s hair was surprisingly tidy.  When did that happen?

She was interrupted by her thoughts by Ginny Weasley, who had come up the hall.

 “Harry!” Ginny exclaimed excitedly.  When Harry looked away from Rosie, she felt like she had suddenly be released from some sort of powerful psychic hold.  Unwittingly, she inhaled deeply, as though catching her breath, and then turned her attention to Ginny.

 “Hello, Ginny,” Harry was saying, as he smiled down at the younger Gryffindor.  Rosie, who had been watching Ginny noticed the flush that crossed Ginny’s cheeks, as well as the girl’s completely dazed and entranced expression.  She knew that Ginny had a pretty bad case of hero-worship, but this was more than she had even imagined.

 “Hi Ginny,” Rosie said to the girl when it was clear that Ginny hadn’t noticed her.  Ginny had always been warm and friendly in class, and both Luna and Rosie liked the Gryffindor first year.  Rosie’s words caused Ginny to tear her gaze away from Harry, and when she looked at Rosie, her eyes narrowed.  It was extremely confusing - she had never seen that degree of hostility from Ginny before.  Ginny edge closer to Harry, in a possessive way.  Her behaviour reminded Rosie of a dog guarding a bone.

 “Hi,” Ginny said, her voice flat and cold.

 “Ginny,” Harry said.  “I’m sure you know my sister?”  His voice was gentle, but it seemed to hide a steel edge of command.  Ginny’s gaze flickered up to Harry, and she blushed again before looking back at Rosie, with some but not all of the hostility gone.

 “Yeah - we have classes together,” Ginny replied.  Harry had turned his attention back onto Rosie, and when Rosie looked from Ginny back to Harry, she was once again ensnared by his gaze, and the feeling of immense and overwhelming power.

 “I - I - erm - I have to go,” Rosie said, even more awkwardly than before.  And yet, despite her words, she didn’t dare to tear her eyes away from Harry’s.

 “So soon?” Harry asked, his voice light, which masked the steel edge beneath. “It almost feels like I never see you anymore, beloved sister.”

At his words, Rosie felt a rush of warmth, as though she had been given an intoxicating potion of pure pleasure.  He called her his beloved!  Yet, some part of her mind was thinking: wait - Harry has never called me a beloved sister before.  What in Merlin’s name is going on here?

  “I - I really do have to go,” Rosie squeaked out.  In truth, she didn’t actually have to go anywhere, but she felt afraid.  Would he punish her for her words?

Harry’s expression remained benevolent.  “Very well.  But we shall speak later, Rosie.”  His words were like a knife edge.  Rosie felt herself wanting to collapse, but Harry and Ginny had swept past her, and suddenly, she was breathing again, propped against a wall for support.  Was that really Harry?  Or was that the curse of the scar?  Was there such a thing as a curse that made a wizard powerful and charismatic?  She supposed that with magic, anything was possible.  The experience had been ominous and also creepy.  She had thought that Toby was bad, but the experience she just had felt much, much worse.  Though she was afraid to voice it, some part of her was coming to believe that whoever that was, it wasn’t Harry.  At least not her Harry.

While Rosie had felt shaken, she had not encountered Harry alone during a black out again, and for that, she was grateful.  Luna and Romulus’s company had pulled Rosie out of her daze, and instead of thinking about Harry, she was able to turn her thoughts back to Christmas.  During her lessons with Madam Pomfrey, she was thankful to discover that no new students had been petrified.  And though Toby continued to ruffle her hair, and pretend to be friendly, she found it much easier to deal with him after the bizarre incident with Harry.  Toby did seem to give her odd, knowing looks, but she didn’t have the courage to question him about it.  Her mind was often in too much of a whirl.


	16. Chapter 16

Before she knew it, she and Harry were on the Hogwarts Express, returning back to London.  Harry was back to being ‘himself’ which Rosie was able to sense from the empathic link between them.  This was her Harry, and she was glad to be able to relax around him.  At King’s Cross Station, Rosie dashed out of the train and threw herself into Sirius’s arms as soon as she saw him.

 

 “Pups!” Sirius had exclaimed, but the impact of Rosie as she flew at him had knocked the breath out of his lungs.

 

 “Hey pup, I’m glad to see you too,” Sirius said, affectionately tousling Rosie’s hair.  Harry’s pace was more sedate, but he also joined Rosie in a hug.

 

  “I missed you,” Harry said to Sirius.

 

  “Me too!” Rosie chimed, looking up at him.  Sirius grinned.

 

  “I missed you too, pups.  The house is quiet without you,” Sirius told them.  “And Kreacher isn’t exactly exciting company.”

 

  “Somehow, I don’t imagine you were actually lacking for company,” Harry said, his tone of voice droll.  Sirius’s lips quirked in amusement.

 

  “Oh! I just realized.  Rom - if Rom’s here, then Remus should be picking him up.  Have you seen him anywhere?” Rosie asked her godfather.

 

  “Moony?  Good God!  It didn’t even occur to me!”  Sirius started looking around the crowd.  Rosie also searched, but she was looking for Romulus rather than for Remus.  Unfortunately, Romulus had a way of disappearing when he didn’t want to be seen, and Rosie couldn’t see her friend anywhere.

 

  “There!” Sirius exclaimed, and he started waving his hands in the air.  “Come on, Pups!”  Rosie and Harry followed Sirius through the crowds of people, awkwardly pulling their trunks behind them.  Due to his eagerness to get ahead, Rosie and Harry ended up losing sight of their godfather.

 

  “It’s like he forgets he’s supposed to be watching over us,” Rosie said sardonically, as she looked over towards her brother.

 

Harry grinned.  “Well - all we need to do is follow the trail of admiring glances, and we’ll find him eventually.”  

 

 “And give him a good scolding, as usual?”

 

 “Naturally,” Harry replied.  Rosie and Harry wove past the milling families and their children.  The couldn’t seem to see Sirius anywhere, and in the end, it was Romulus who found them.

 

  “Rom!” Rosie exclaimed, smiling widely.  “I was looking for you earlier.  I didn’t see you.”

 

  “Your guardian is over there,” Romulus said, tilting his head in the direction they needed to head.  Rosie looked back at Harry and he nodded.  The siblings followed Romulus and soon, they found themselves face to face with Sirius and the elusive, mysterious Remus.

 

Knowing Romulus, Rosie had imagined that Remus would be something like the younger boy.  She knew that Romulus was adopted of course, and she had seen pictures of Remus, but that wasn’t the same thing as actually knowing Remus.  She imagined someone intense, quiet, and full of hidden energy and caution.  Thus, the tired-looking man with gentle eyes that stood before her was a surprise.

 

  “Harry - Rosie,” Remus said, his voice breaking with emotion as he laid his eyes upon them.  Though Rosie had no conscious memory of Remus, something about his eyes sparked her emotions.  It was strange, but she could feel the love pouring from him.  Her impulsive nature took over, and before she realized what she was doing, she had released her trunks, and was hugging Remus as though he were an old and dear friend.  Remus was momentarily stunned, and stood frozen, but then he gently set his hand on Rosie’s head.  Harry had walked up to Remus, and while he did not hug him, Harry’s eyes were shiny with unshed tears.  Remus reached out a hand towards Harry, and unable to help himself, Harry soon found himself hugging Remus as well.

 

Sirius was wearing a goofy grin on his face, but he seemed to sparkle with happiness.  He wasn’t wearing his usual ‘charming and handsome’ smile, but was instead showing a completely unguarded part of himself.  Eventually, the two siblings untangled themselves from Remus.  Rosie looked over at Romulus, and grinned, and surprisingly, the edge Romulus’s lips quirked upwards.  She was so used to seeing cold looks or scowls from him, that her heart jumped with happiness to see that little bit of an almost-smile.

 

Remus reached an arm out and wrapped it around Romulus’s shoulder in a protective and affectionate gesture.  It was so unusual to see Romulus acting so comfortably with someone that Rosie wouldn’t have believed it if she didn’t see it with her own eyes.  Not wanting to cut their reunion short, Sirius suggested that they get all a bite to eat at the Leaky Cauldron.

 

Sirius and Remus shrunk all the trunks, and tucked them into their pockets while Harry held on to Hedwig’s cage.  Harry and Rosie said a quick goodbye to their friends.  After a brief discussion of how they would travel, Harry released Hedwig, telling her to return to Grimmauld Place, while the rest of the apparated.  They found a cozy table in a shadowy corner at the Leaky Cauldron

 

It was interesting to Rosie that no awkwardness seemed to exist between Sirius and Remus.  Once they started talking, it was as though they had never been apart.  The years simply fell away, and they were two best friends, who knew almost everything a person could know about another.  Harry, Rosie and even Romulus listened to them reminisce with rapt attention.  It occurred to all three of the children that they had never truly witnessed their guardians talking to a friend before.  Certainly Sirius got along well with many other adults, and Remus had always been polite and well thought of, but that was completely different from friendship.

 

The adults acted like they would be content to talk for hours, and Rosie would have happily listened to them all the while until it occurred to her that she still had Christmas presents yet to buy.  Furthermore, they just so happened to already be at Diagon Alley.  It was the perfect opportunity!

 

  “Padfoot!” Rosie called out, once there was a short lull in the conversation.  “Can I go shopping?  I still need to get some Christmas stuff.”

 

  “Me too!” Harry said.  “I’ve barely had time to think about presents.”

 

  “We can come along,” Sirius said, but Rosie shook her head.

 

  “Stay,” Rosie insisted.  She knew Sirius hated shopping.  He’d spend the whole time sighing and fidgeting impatiently.  But instead of pointing that out, Rosie said: “If you come, you’ll spoil the surprise.  Remus - Is it alright if I call you that?”  Remus nodded. 

 

  “What kind of books do you like to read?” Rosie asked.  She knew she was being too obvious, but frankly, she couldn’t think of another way to find out what to get Remus for Christmas.  The edges of Remus’s lips quirked.  He could immediately tell what she was up to.

 

 “Well, I like to read just about anything.  But at the moment, I’ve been particularly interested in History.  Especially any history from a non-human perspective,” Remus replied.  Rosie nodded as she considered his words.  Admittedly, the History of Magic class was terribly boring, but history itself was often fascinating.  Rosie grinned and nodded.

 

 “Rom - why don’t you go along with them,” Remus said gently.  Romulus knew that Remus wasn’t trying to get rid of him.  Rather, Remus was silently suggesting that Romulus could protect the Potter children.  After all, Remus was very well aware of Romulus’s capabilities.  He might only be eleven, but Romulus had a wolf’s toughness - more so than Remus ever had at his age.  

 

 “Are you sure you’ll be okay?” Sirius asked guiltily.  He knew he didn’t want to go shopping, but he still felt that he ought to watch over the children.

 

 “We’ll be fine!” Harry and Rosie chimed.  Concurrently, Romulus just gave a serious nod that made him look much older than he was.  With a rueful smile, Sirius waved the children off.  He glanced at Remus and shook his head.

 

 “They grow up so fast,” Sirius murmured.  Remus patted Sirius’s back sympathetically.

 

 “That they do, Padfoot.  That they do.”

 

The trio of children exited the Leaky Cauldron onto the busy street of Diagon Alley.  The sky was already dark, in part because of the short winter days.  Fortunately, the shops were open late to cater to the holiday shoppers. The street were packed with other witches and wizards who wanted to do their Christmas shopping. Harry and Rosie decided that the group would stick together, but agreed that they wouldn’t peek at what the other person was buying.  Romulus seemed to have no inclination to join the discussion, and simply followed along with the siblings.  However, Rosie noticed that Romulus tended to stay close to her, and if Harry came to near, Romulus would almost tense up.  His actions were subtle but Rosie had known him long enough to read his body language.  Did Romulus know something about what was affecting Harry?  Or was it just Romulus’s natural distrust of people he wasn’t close to?

 

The trio stopped by multiple stores on Diagon Alley.  Unlike Sirius, Romulus was surprisingly patient.  While he was wary of the crowds, he didn’t sigh or fidget the way Sirius would have.  Through her empathic link with Harry, Rosie noticed that his anxiety was minimal.  Compared to their shopping expedition in late August, it was a drastic difference.  In fact, there were a few people who wanted to shake hands with Harry, and before Rosie could even intervene, Harry was shaking their hands, and offering them a friendly smile.  It was decidedly odd, but as long as the darkness in their link stayed low, Rosie was not overly troubled.  Perhaps his experience at Hogwarts had given him more confidence in handling people.

 

Rosie quickly found gifts for both Remus and Romulus.  She had intended to purchase something Quidditch related for Sirius, but was distracted by a street vendor selling jewellry.  Among the items was a beautiful grey moonstone lapel pin.  The colour reminded Rosie of Sirius’s eyes.  She picked up the pin, admiring it.

 

  “Beautiful pin, isn’t it, dearie?” The vendor was saying.  She was an older woman with handsome features.  “It has some mild magical properties.  It can enhance intuition and bring good fortune.  But one can always imbue more magic into gemstones.”

 

Rosie examined the lapel pin consideringly.  She knew that Sirius could be rather vain.  She could imagine him appreciating such a lovely item.

 

 “I’ll take it,” Rosie said, with a smile.  Despite being a street vendor, the older woman provided a beautiful box in which to place the lapel pin.  Rosie thanked her, and paid for the purchase.  All she had left to shop for was the most difficult person of all: Harry.

 

 “Have you found everything you’re looking for yet, Harry?” Rosie asked her brother.

 

 “Almost,” he replied.  “You’re really difficult to shop for.”  

 

Rosie laughed, seeing as they were in the same boat.  “So are you.”

 

Out of curiosity, Rosie decided to enter Magical Menagerie.  She couldn’t imagine getting Harry a pet or a familiar - he had Hedwig after all, and Hedwig might not be too pleased to have to share Harry’s affections.  The pet store seemed to be filled with tanks and cages of all sizes and shapes.  There were toads of all types and colours.  Many were green and brown, but there was one that was tomato red, and another that had an orange and blue underbelly.  There was a green double-ended newt, fire crabs with glittering jewelled shells, and all sorts of snakes.  Cats of every pattern and colour could be heard, meowing for attention.  There were even spherical custard-coloured puffskeins, which Rosie could not resist petting.  The little creatures, which were piled up in a basket, hummed contentedly.

 

Rosie looked over the rodent-like nifflers, but as much as a prankster as Sirius might be, he probably wouldn’t appreciate a pet that could damage the house.  She whispered hellos to the little snakes, and they hissed back, curious to meet a Speaker who could understand them.  However, Rosie’s attention was caught by a particularly beautiful creature that she didn’t recognize.  It looked like a snake, but it had feathery protrusions all along the length of its back.  It’s feathers were a glossy black, with an iridescent green sheen.  Judging by the size, it was likely fairly young.

 

 “ _ Hello, _ ” Rosie said to the creature, wondering if it would understand her.  The feathered serpent raised its head, and regarded Rosie with luminous golden coloured eyes.

 

 “ _ A Speaker, _ ” the feathered serpent said.  “ _ And not a very powerful one. _ ”  The beautiful creature laid its head back down, as though dismissing her.

 

  “Ah,” said the young salesman, who had come up behind Rosie.  “I see you’ve spotted our rarest pet of all.”

 

  “What is he?” Rosie asked, unable to help her curiosity.

 

 “A Kukulkan.  An extremely rare serpent from South America that the people once revered as Gods.  This one is the only one I’ve ever had in this shop.  He -”  The shopkeeper suddenly looked troubled.

 

 “Is he alright?” Rosie asked.

 

 “He has had several owners already, and all of them have returned him.  I’ve also had numerous, less savoury customers who want to use him as potion ingredients.”  The shopkeeper scowled.  “I would never permit such a thing.  The Kukulkan comes with a binding magical contract that forbids deliberately harming the serpent, whether intentionally or through neglect.”

 

 “Why has he been returned so often?” Rosie asked.  She found herself wondering why the salesman was even telling her this.  Most salespeople were more eager to make a sale, than to explain problems with their products.

 

 “He will not eat,” the shopkeeper replied.  “He - well, he was initially hatched from an egg, and we hoped that that would make it easier to keep him in captivity, but it seems we were wrong.  He would never survive in these climates, but I believe that even if we returned him to South America, it is unlikely he could survive on his own.  He should be much bigger at his age, but his refusal to eat has stunted his growth.  We’ve even tried spelling food straight into his stomach, but he just regurgitates it.  His feathers have lost a great deal of their sheen.  He may not have much longer to live if this continues.”  

 

 “How much is he?” Rosie asked. 

 

 “He was originally 2500 Galleons,” the shopkeeper informed her.  Rosie looked at the feathered serpent in shock.  Was he worth so much?

 

  “But we’ve since lowered the price.  We’re - well, we’re desperate to find a home for him.  We want him to survive.  It would be heartbreaking to hatch such a beautiful creature, only to let him die,” The shopkeeper continued.

 

 “How much is he now?”

 

 “If you can convince him to eat, then I’m willing to let him go for 80 Galleons,” The shopkeeper replied.  Rosie looked at the feathered-serpent consideringly.  Eighty Galleons was no small price.  Of course, she could afford it, due to the Potter fortune, but she wasn’t certain whether the beautiful creature would accept either her or Harry.

 

 “May I think about it?” Rosie asked.  The salesman nodded, and wandered off to help the other customers.  When he was far enough away, Rosie spoke to the Kukulkan.

 

  “ _ Why do you not eat? _ ” she asked the feathered serpent.  The beautiful creature regarded Rosie with its golden eyes, but didn’t bother to raise it’s head.

 

 “ _ Why should I? _ ” he replied disdainfully.  “ _ I’m surrounded by weaklings. _ ”

 

__ “ _ What does it matter, how strong or weak someone is? _ ” Rosie asked.  “ _ The people here care very much for you, and I imagine that those who wanted you as a pet cared for you as well. _ ”

 

__ “ _ I am no pet! _ ” The Kukulkan hissed angrily. “ _ And I will never consent to be anyone’s pet _ .”

 

 “ _ Then what about a companion _ ?” Rosie asked.  The Kukulkan considered the idea.

 

 “ _ I do not object to a companion.  But every being I have encountered is a weakling.  I will not be companion to a weakling.” _ the creature said pridefully.

 

 “ _ How can you tell if someone is weak or strong? _ ” Rosie asked.

 

 “ _ I can sense it.  Just as I can sense that you are not very powerful.  I would never consent to having you as a companion.  One such as you is not worth living for,”  _ the feathered serpent said in a haughty tone.  The Kukulkan seemed to have an extremely imperious attitude.

 

 “ _ You’d prefer death, then? _ ” Rosie asked, curiously.

 

 “ _ There is pride in choosing my own death.  Better than lowering myself by keeping the company of those who are unworthy of me. _ ” The feathered serpent hissed arrogantly.

 

 “ _ Would you consider being companion to my brother? _ ” Rosie asked. “ _ He is one-of-a-kind.  He is the only wizard known to survive the killing curse. _ ”

 

 “ _ Oh? _ ” The Kukulkan replied, consideringly.  “ _ Perhaps. _ _ I would rather judge for myself, the power of this brother of yours. _ ”

 

Rosie searched the Magical Menagerie for her brother.  He appeared to be playing with an eager little crup.  She did not want to reveal the feathered serpent to Harry, but she also wanted the serpent to be able to gauge Harry’s power.  She wasn’t entirely clear how the feathered serpent did so, since it’s description wasn’t very clear, but she assumed it was some sort of magical ability.

 

  “ _ Wait a moment, _ ” she said to the Kukulkan.  “ _ I will pretend to show my brother the fire crab over there _ .”  The fire crab tank was several feet over - enough for the Kukulkan to see Harry, but hopefully far enough away that Harry would fail to notice the beautiful feathered serpent.

 

Walking over to the fire crab tank, Rosie called out for her brother.

 

 “Harry!”  Her brother looked up at her, curious.  “Come here!  I want to know what you think of this.”  

 

Giving the crup a final pet, Harry stood up and joined her by the fire crab.

 

 “What do you think of it?  Do you think Remus would like something like this?” Rosie asked Harry, as she looked upon the bejeweled shell of the fire crab.

 

 “Erm - I get the feeling that it really isn’t Remus’s -” Suddenly, Harry stopped speaking.  He seemed to stand up a bit straighter, as if he sensed something, and the darkness in their empathic link grew and grew until it was completely blacked out.  Harry was turning his head towards the direction of the feathered serpent, his emerald eyes glowing with powerful intensity.  It frightened Rosie, but at the same time, Rosie didn’t want Harry to see the Kukulkan.

 

 “What about that over there!” Rosie exclaimed, giving Harry a light push, and pointing at the double-ended newt.  As quickly as it came, the blackness retreated back into it’s little corner.  Harry was suddenly back to being ‘himself.’  Glancing over at the newt, Harry gave her a rather incredulous look.

 

 “Oh, nevermind.  You’re no help!” Rosie huffed, playfully swatting Harry’s arm.  Harry grinned and shrugged, and then went back to playing with the eager crup, who was whining plaintively for attention.  After seeing that Harry was occupied, she returned to the Kukulkan.

 

  “ _ What did you do? _ ” Rosie hissed at the feathered serpent. “ _ Did you make that happen? _ ”

 

  “ _ I only tested his strength.  Nothing more, _ ” the serpent replied.  “ _ He is acceptable.  I am willing to eat something now. _ ”

 

  “ _ And why should I let you be a companion to my brother? _ ” Rosie asked angrily.  Whatever had happened didn’t strike her as a good thing.  Not if the Kukulkan brought out that horrible blackness.

 

The golden eyes seemed to look at Rosie consideringly. “ _ Because he shall never find another companion like me, and it is likely that I shall never find another like him.  And because as long as he as me with him, I will do all I can to protect him and look out for him.  I would allow no harm to come to my companion.  I do not choose companions lightly.  But once I do, we are companions for life. _ ”

 

There was something rather striking about the Kukulkan’s words.  The bond it was describing sounded incredibly powerful and meaningful.  At the same time, she also got the sense that the Kukulkan was not telling her everything.  She was so accustomed to the simple desires of snakes, that the intelligence of this creature left her with a sense of awe.  She knew that if she did not purchase the Kukulkan, it would likely choose death, rather relenting to a life with a weak companion.  Could she really let this exquisite creature die?  In the end, despite her reservations, her soft-heartedness towards animals swayed her.  Furthermore, with the dangers that Harry might face in life, it wouldn’t hurt for him to have another set of eyes watching out for him.

 

  “ _ What would you prefer to eat? _ ” she asked the Kukulkan, with a tired sigh.  She had only just met the feathered serpent, and already, she felt like its servant.

 

  “ _ A rodent would do.  A fat one. _ ” it replied imperiously.  Rosie had to resist the urge to to bow, and say ‘Yes, your majesty.’  She called the shopkeeper over.

 

  “Do you have fat rodent?  I think he’ll be willing to eat one,” Rosie informed the young man.  The shopkeeper’s eyes widened.  He nodded, and dashed over to the rodent tank, carefully picking out the largest, plumpest mouse.  Placing the mouse in the Kukulkan’s tank, the feathered serpent sunk it’s teeth into the rodent, and it’s venom quickly killed the small creature.  The rodent was then ingested whole in front of the wide-eyed shopkeep.  Once the Kukulkan was satisfied, the salesman looked over at Rosie, unable to hide his disbelief.

 

 “Do - Do you want a tank?  What am I saying - I’ll throw in a tank for you.  Just - give me a moment.  You’ll also have to sign the magical contract,” the shopkeeper informed her.

 

 “The Kukulkan will be for my brother.  Will he have to sign the contract as well?  It’s - a Christmas gift, and I don’t really want to give it away,” said Rosie.

 

 “Hm - I’m afraid he will have to sign the contract.  But we can hide the name of the Kukulkan.  All he will know is that he is signing a contract that forbids him from killing or harming a pet.”

 

Rosie nodded.  “That’s fine then.  Harry would never hurt an animal.  He’s the one over there, playing with the crup.”  Rosie smiled as she watched the crup licking Harry’s fingers.  Even Romulus seemed to find the crup’s behaviour endearing.  Her friend wasn’t smiling, but there was a hint of warmth in his eyes as he watched the antics of the playful creature.

 

The shopkeeper looked over at Harry and smiled.  “He seems to have a way with animals.  I’ll get you a cover for the tank, so that your brother doesn’t find out what kind of present you got him.”

 

  “Thank you,” Rosie replied gratefully.  At the counter, Rosie called Harry over, and informed him about the contract.  Harry raised an eyebrow, and said that he hoped Hedwig wouldn’t be too jealous about whatever pet Rosie had found.  However, he signed the contract willingly, and there was a swirl of magical energy that surrounded him.  Rosie signed the contract immediately after.

 

Before long, they were finished with their shopping, and they returned to the Leaky Cauldron, where Sirius and Remus were still chatting.

 

  “Done already, pups?” Sirius asked when he saw them.  Rosie and Harry nodded, both wearing bright smiles on their faces.

 

  “That was easy,” Sirius declared.  Harry rolled his eyes and Rosie smirked.  Of course it was easy for Sirius when he didn’t have to do any actual shopping.

 

  “Anyhow, pups -” Sirius’s expression was suddenly serious, and he glanced over at Remus, who gave him a quick nod.  Rosie and Harry shared a look and then returned their attention back to Sirius, wondering what had so quickly changed his playful demeanour.

 

 “I’ve been speaking to Moony - and - well -” Sirius trailed of.

 

 “If it’s alright with you two, I’d like to join you, when you visit your parents,” Remus concluded.  Harry and Rosie both paled.

 

  “Of - of course,” Harry stammered.  Rosie nodded in agreement.  The sibling’s enthusiasm for Christmas had almost caused them to forget about the visit to St. Mungo’s.

 

 “When will we be visiting them?” Rosie asked, her voice subdued and her expression troubled.

 

 “Christmas Eve,” Sirius replied. “If that’s alright with you two pups?”

 

Harry and Rosie nodded.

 

 “Is Rom coming too?” Rosie asked, looking over at her friend.  “That is - it’s fine if he wants to.”

 

Remus looked over at his adopted son.  “It’s up to you,” Remus said to him, his tone gentle.  “You don’t have to decide anything now.”  Romulus nodded in response. 

 

 “Well - that’s settled,” Sirius said.  “Shall we head home?  You two look ready to crawl into bed.”  Rosie and Harry happily agreed.  With the train ride and shopping, it had been a long day.  They said their goodbyes to Remus and Romulus, and before long, Rosie and Harry were tucked into their familiar beds in Grimmauld Place.

 


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a little one-shot that I wrote in the middle of the story. It can be skipped. I just thought it would be amusing to write about what it's like, growing up with Sirius (without Remus's moderating influence)

**Interlude**

1988

 

Kieran Kinnaird was nineteen years old, and a graduate from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.  He had been a Ravenclaw, and had graduated in the top five of his class.  Aside from that, Kieran had always considered himself fairly ordinary.  He had medium brown hair, hazel eyes, and was of medium height.  No one ever really gave him a second glance, but he really didn’t mind.  He was more fascinated by learning than he was with people.

 

Kieran checked the piece of parchment that he had kept in the pocket of his robes.  Twelve Grimmauld Place, Islington, London.  9 o’clock a.m. on the dot.  It was a lovely spring day, and this would be his first introduction to the two Potter heirs that he would be the tutor for.  He briefly found himself wondering what he should expect.  This was only his second tutoring job of his life (excluding all those times he tutored his classmates while in Hogwarts).  Furthermore, one of his pupils was the famous Boy Who Lived.  

 

It wasn’t in Kieran’s nature to make assumptions.  He had heard all the rumours about young Harry Potter of course, but rumours were just that: rumours.  There was a sister too, one year younger than Harry Potter.  What was her name?  He checked the slip of parchment.  Ah, Primrose Potter.  This particular job also paid higher than average wages.  When he had accepted the job at the agency, the witch at the desk had given him an unreadable look, but Kieran didn’t give it too much thought.  His experiences with tutoring thus far had been largely positive, and it was with this optimistic outlook that Kieran lifted his hand and rapped on the door.

 

After a short wait, the door cracked open, and a suspicious looking house elf, with a bulbous nose, and wrinkly skin peered up at him through narrowed eyes.

 

  “Who knocks at the door of the noble house of Black?” the house elf asked suspiciously, when suddenly, from behind him, Kieran could hear a pair of young voices calling out: “Kreacher?  Who’s at the door?  Let us look!”  The house elf seemed to protest, but the children disregarded him and pulled open the door.  A pair of black-haired siblings with pale young faces peered up at Kieran.  The young girl was wearing an expression of unconcealed curiosity, while the boy hung back, and regarded him with caution.

 

  “Who’re you?” the young girl piped.  She was holding on to the edge of the door, and the house elf was giving her a rather disgruntled look, as though offended that he had been prevented from doing his duties.  The girl peered at the house elf, and her ears suddenly pinkened.

 

 “I mean - how may I help you, sir?” the young girl corrected, displaying rather pretty manners for a six year old.

 

 “Erm - I’m Mr. Kinnaird.  The new tutor.  Is your guardian in?” 

 

 “Padfoot?”  The young girl looked back at the young boy before turning back to Kieran.  “Padfoot - I mean Sirius is still sleeping.”  She giggled childishly.  “Everyone knows he never gets up before noon.”

 

 “Rosie - he’s new the tutor,” said the young boy softly.  “Maybe you should invite him in.”  The girl nodded at her brother.

 

 “Please come in, Mr. Kinnaird.  Wouldja like some tea, sir?” the young girl moved aside, allowing Kieran entrance.  Kieran looked around the gloomy front entrance lit by dim gas lamps, unsure of what he should be doing in such a situation.  In all the scenarios he had imagined, he didn’t think that the guardian to his new charges would be asleep.  It was shockingly irresponsible.  After all, what if he had evil intentions?  What if he had meant the young children harm?

 

 “Some tea would be lovely,” Kieran said, after gathering his thoughts.  The pair of children were already ambling towards a room on the side, which turned out to be the dining room.  Kieran followed them.

 

The young girl and boy sat at one end of the long table, across from one another.  Kieran chose a chair, a short distance away, not wanting to intimidate them, but also not too far so as to appear cold and aloof.

 

 “We’re just eating breakfs’t,” the young girl informed him.  “Kreacher, can you please get Mr. Kinnaird some tea, please?”  The young boy seemed to whisper something in the house elf’s ear before the house elf vanished, and the siblings shared a speaking look, and tried to suppress giggles.  However, Kieran’s attention was engrossed by what the children called their ‘breakfast.’  What kind of guardian allowed children to eat such things as part of a meal?  Their plates consisted of chocolate frogs, cauldron cakes, and sugar quills.  There also appeared to be fruit rocks, jelly slugs, and liquorice wands.  The table was littered with empty wrappers, although the chocolate frog collectible cards were placed on the side.  Unlike everything else, they were arranged in neat piles.

 

 “Want some, sir?” the young girl asked.

 

 “Erm - no thanks, Miss Potter?”  

 

The young girl giggled.  “Call me Rosie.  And this’s Harry.”

 

 “Nice to meet you, Rosie and Harry,” Kieran replied.  “You may call me Kieran, if you’d like.”  Kieran knew it wasn’t exactly professional to allow the children to address him by his given name, but he hoped that it would put the children at ease - particularly young Harry, who remained guarded and quiet.  At that moment, the house elf appeared beside him, and set a cup of tea in front of him before vanishing.  Both pair of eyes of his young charges seemed to be watching him intently, as though waiting for something to happen.  The candy on their plates was forgotten.

 

Kieran looked down at his tea, immediately suspicious.  He had grown up with two older brothers and a sister, and he was no stranger to mischief and pranks.  At the same time, he didn’t want to let his suspicions show, and ruin the children’s fun.  They were both so young - they wouldn’t do something like poison him, would they?

 

 “Is something wrong with the tea, Mr. Kieran?” Rosie asked, her eyes sparkling.  Harry seemed to be trying to hold in a snort of laughter.  Kieran tried to keep himself from grimacing.

 

 “The tea smells lovely,” Kieran replied relatively smoothly.  Both children were looking at him expectantly.  He really didn’t want to spoil their fun.  And so, bracing himself, he carefully brought the teacup towards his mouth.  When the edge of the teacup touched his lips, he found that he was no longer touching fine china, but instead, the brim of the cup at turned into a pair of garish red lips that were giving him a noisy, wet kiss.  Blergh!!  Kieran thrust the teacup away from his face in disgust, while the lips on the teacup smacked and pouted.  The two children were in heaps of laughter, unable to help giggling in amusement.  Kieran couldn’t help but smile ruefully - it really wasn’t that bad as far as pranks went, and his two young charges were surprisingly cute.

 

  “Didja see his face?” Rosie was saying, between fits of giggles.

 

  “I think he liked it!” Harry chortled, giving Kieran a mischievous look.  His earlier reticence seemed to be fading.

 

  “Eww!!” Rosie exclaimed.  “Didja really like it Mr. Kieran?” The young girl was looking at him with undisguised repugnance.

 

 “I don’t know, Rosie.  Why don’t you try it yourself?”  He leaned forward, moving the smacking lips of the teacup towards the young girl.  She shrieked in horror and mingled with playful delight, jumping out of her seat and backing away.

 

 “What’s wrong Rosie?” Kieran asked innocently.  “I thought you gave me this special cup because you liked me!”

 

 “It was Harry’s idea!”  Rosie exclaimed, pointing at her older brother.

 

 “Oh?  Well, then maybe you’d like some kisses?” Kieran moved the cup towards the young boy.  He knew he was taking a risk - the girl acted bolder and more playful, but Harry was guarded and cautious.  Harry’s face was scrunched up in dismay as he looked at the cup, but he did not run off the way his sister did.

 

 “It’s got your germs all over it,” Harry said woefully, giving Kieran a puppy dog look that Kieran immediately guessed that both children practiced often, to great effect.  Harry’s emerald green eyes were luminous, and his lower lip trembled ever so slightly.  These two children were good at what they did - Kieran was starting to understand why this tutoring job paid so well.  He could imagine tutors being putty in the children’s hands.  And an easily manipulated tutor wasn’t a useful tutor.

 

He supposed he could let the children win this round.  “Ah, I suppose you’re right Harry.  You know what they say about germs from strange wizards.”  Kieran set the teacup down on the table, and the garish lips vanished, so that the teacup once again looked completely ordinary.

 

  “What do they say about germs from strange wizards?” Rosie asked, unable to fight her curiosity.

 

Kieran widened his eyes.  “What?  You don’t know?  Well, it’s part of my job as tutor to teach you all of these things.  Though -” Kieran looked down at his teacup, faking a troubled expression.

 

 “Though what?” Harry asked.

 

 “Well - I find myself wondering whether the two of you even want to have a tutor.  Call it a feeling, but I almost think you two prefer to be on your own,” Kieran told them.

 

Harry and Rosie shared a long look.  “Well, sir, I think that maybe it might not be so bad to have a new tutor,” Harry said, cautiously.

 

 “Harry!” Rosie hissed softly.  “Tutors do things like give us tests, and spank us for playing tricks!”

 

Though Rosie was trying to be secretive, Kieran could clearly hear what she was saying, and it troubled him deeply.  Never, had it occurred to him to spank a child.  As troublesome as he and his siblings had been, Kieran’s parents were firm believers in reasoning and talking to their children.

 

 “Maybe he’s different,” Harry whispered back.  Kieran tried to hide his smile.  It was heartwarming that the shy child was willing to give him a chance.  Harry and Rosie both turned to look at Kieran, with assessing gazes.  Kieran maintained his innocent expression.

 

 “How about a tour of the house?” He asked, trying to distract them from their little disagreement.  The two children looked at one another before looking at him, and they nodded.  Grabbing a handful of candy, they led him out of the dining room.  When they stood up, Kieran could not help but take note of their robes.  The fabric seemed to be of the finest quality, and yet, it was obvious that both children were wearing sizes that were too small.  He could see their ankles and forearms poking out of the edges of the robe.  What kind of guardian did these two children even have?  Candy for breakfast, and poorly fitted clothing?  And on top of that, he wasn’t even awake to greet the new tutor?

 

In the hallway, the children paused before a life-size portrait of a older woman, framed by velvet curtains.  Her robes looked to be slightly old-fashioned, but not so old as to suggest a different century.  The boy hung back, but the girl curtseyed in front of the haughty looking lady.

 

 “Hello, Madam Walburga,” said the young girl, curtseying low.  “We have a new tutor.  May I introduce you to him?”

 

The old woman’s eyes narrowed.  “And what manner of company might a child of filth bring into this great and noble household?” 

 

Kieran was rather taken aback by the woman’s words.  She all but spat out the words ‘child of filth.’  Why hadn’t their guardian gotten rid of such an offensive portrait?  Kieran and his family weren’t very political, but he knew enough to know that the Black family was known to lean towards Dark rather than Light.  Aside from the most recent heir, the Blacks had strong beliefs in regards to blood purity.  As for Kieran himself, his family was pureblood, but not a particularly old or well-known pureblood family.  Stepping forward, Kieran bowed before the commanding old witch.

 

 “I am Kieran Kinnaird.  Pleased to meet your acquaintance, Madam.”  In truth, he wasn’t particularly pleased, but this wasn’t his household, and he knew better than to be impolite to portraits.  Some of them could be downright frightening, if offended.  The old woman narrowed her eyes.

 

 “Kinnaird?  Hrrmph.  Young upstart.  The name only goes back to the 1800s. Better than some of the filth and blood-traitors that cross this hall.”  Madam Walburga seemed to lose interest in Kieran and had turned her imperious nose away, in an obvious dismissal.

 

The trio walked past the portrait, and Rosie whispered: “I think she likes you.”  There was a childish grin on her face.  It took almost all of Kieran’s efforts not to grimace.  They walked towards the stairs at the end of the gloomy hallway, and the children paused in front of a series of what looked like shrivelled house elf heads mounted on the walls.

 

  “This’s Kreachy, Kritter, Beasty, Pestie and Impy,” Rosie informed Kieran, pointing out the heads one by one.

 

 “Erm - very nice,” Kieran replied uneasily.  The children beamed.  He followed them up the stairs, and into what looked like a parlour, with toys sitting on the chairs and all over the floors.  Though the toys were brightly coloured, the panelling and wallpaper in the room was as gloomy as the hallways.

 

 “This is our playroom,” said Harry softly.  Kieran couldn’t help but smile at the boy for trying to make an effort to be a part of the tour.

 

 “D’you wanna see our toys?”  Rosie asked.  The children had an inordinate amount of toys.

 

 “There’s even more in our bedrooms!” Harry added, getting excited about the topic of toys.

 

 “How about you show me some toys, and then we can discuss your education,” Kieran suggested.  The children’s face fell.

 

 “See, he’s just like the other ones,” Rosie hissed to Harry.

 

 “Well, he seemed nice!” Harry replied defensively.  Both children were looking at Kieran with mutinous expressions.

 

 “We can already read,” Rosie declared.  “An’ even do some spells.  We don’t need a tutor.”

 

As Kieran looked upon the children’s rebellious faces, he couldn’t help but wonder what their past experiences had been like.  For Kieran, learning had always been a pleasure.  As much as his siblings had been trouble makers, all of them loved to learn, and it was a bit of a family tradition to be sorted into Ravenclaw.  He found himself feeling determined to make learning as fun as possible for the two children before him.

 

  “So you already know everything there is to know?” Kieran asked, keeping his tone of voice light.

 

Rosie nodded, her expression set, but Harry tilted his head curiously.

 

  “Then I suppose I don’t need to tell you about Ulric the Oddball, who wore a jellyfish as a hat, since you know all about it,” Kieran said.

 

The children shared a glance.  “Are you - jus’ making things up?” Rosie asked suspiciously.

 

 “Oh, I’m quite serious,” Kieran replied.  “But, well, since you two already know everything, I guess I ought to go -”

 

 “Wait!” Both children cried out.  They looked at one another once again.

 

 “We want to hear about Ulric the Oddball,” said Harry.  It took all of Kieran’s efforts to keep from grinning.

 

Kieran saw the Potter children four times a week.  The pair of them pranked him every time he visited, and interestingly, they managed to never repeat the same pranks twice.  Once, they had somehow changed his books so that all the words were swear words.  Another time, it was a biting doorknob.  Some of the pranks were incredibly childish.  Others seemed rather sophisticated, considering the children’s age.  Yet none of the pranks were ever malicious or harmful.  At times, he couldn’t help but be excited to see what they would come up with next.

 

Kieran didn’t actually end up meeting the Potters’ guardian until early in the second week.  He had been sitting with them at the dining table in the late afternoon, showing them various ways to hold a wand, depending on the types of spells one wanted to cast (though the children practiced with sticks).  Primrose was muttering something about ‘stealing Padfoot’s wand.’  Apparently, the stick had failed to meet her childish standards.  With amusement, Kieran transfigured both of the sticks to look like wands, and the children beamed.  They were interrupted by the sound of footsteps descending the stairs.  Both children perked up and eyes glowed with anticipation.

 

  “Padfoot!” They had cried out.  Kieran had heard the children refer to ‘Padfoot’ numerous times and  thought it was a very strange name indeed.  But the children always spoke of Padfoot with evident affection, and Kieran tried not to give it too much thought.  He felt it best to tackle one thing at a time.  First, he wanted to instill a love of learning in the children, though admittedly, they both had curious and intelligent minds.  And second, he wanted them to eat real breakfasts.  Unfortunately, the breakfast they ate on the day that he had met them had not been some strange, one time occurrence.  However, when he had suggested a healthy breakfast on their second meeting, the children had looked at him aghast, and hoovered over their plates of treats protectively, as though expecting him to steal their candy from them.

 

‘Padfoot’ had tromped down the stairs, his wavy hair in disarray, still wearing a sleeping robe.  Kieran had remembered from the contract detailing the job that the guardian’s name was Sirius Black.

 

 “Not so loud!” Sirius was saying, wincing and rubbing his temple.  To Kieran, the man looked hungover, and the young tutor narrowed his eyes, unable to help feeling a sense of disapproval.

 

 “Is this quiet enough?” Rosie was whispering.  Sirius nodded.

 

 “How about this?” said Harry, a bit louder.  And on and on it went until the children were making Sirius cringe with the loudness of every word.  Kieran kept expecting the man to snap, but all he did rest his face in his hands, before demanding a hangover potion from the house elf.

 

 “Do you think he noticed yet?” Rosie was asking Harry, peeking a glance at Kieran.

 

Harry tried to muffle a laugh.  “No - Padfoot never notices anything.”

 

 “Notice what?” Sirius asked with a groan, as he waited for the hangover potion to work.

 

Rosie giggled.  “Don’t you notice anything different today?”

 

 “Erm - your hair is very pretty pup.  Did you braid it?” Sirius asked.

 

Harry and Rosie burst out laughing, and peeked over at Kieran again.  Sirius followed their gaze, and finally noticed the new tutor sitting at the table.

 

 “Oh.  Hullo.  You’re - Erm - You’re Mr.-”

 

 “The new tutor,” said Kieran.  “Kieran Kinnaird.  Pleasure to meet you sir.”  Kieran couldn’t help but feel a little stiff as he greeted the children’s guardian.  However, Sirius disregarded Kieran’s chilly address.

 

 “Oh, did you hear that pups?  He called me sir!” said Sirius.

 

Harry and Rosie giggled.  “That’s ‘cause he doesn’t know you yet.  You’re not a sir.  You’re a - a -” Rosie seemed to struggle to find the right descriptor.

 

 “You’re a big puppy!” Harry exclaimed.  

 

 “Ha!” Sirius burst out.  “Well, that makes sense, since you two are little puppies.”  Sirius’s expression towards the two children was so warm and affectionate, that Kieran felt some of his initial frostiness start to melt.  The man might not have been a very responsible guardian, but there was no question that he loved the children.

 

For the most part, Kieran rarely ever encounter Sirius Black when he was teaching the children.  After a month of seeing them regularly, the children had warmed to him, and always seemed eager and happy to see him.  He had gradually convinced them to add healthier foods to their breakfasts - not by taking away their candy, but by making sure they ate some eggs, bacon and toast first, so that by the time they got around to their treats, they were already full.  He had also taken them out to get new robes - ones that actually fit - after requesting permission from Sirius first, of course.  Not that the children were grateful, if their whinging and complaining was anything to go by.  Kieran could see how a man like Sirius would have little tolerance for taking the children out shopping if the pair of them moaned and groused the whole way.

  
Sirius appeared content to simply ignore Kieran.  The only mishap he ever seemed to have with the older man was one incident when the children had given him a raisin scone at tea time that had changed his appearance.  He imagined the scone must have been infused with some sort of glamour, because when Sirius had come down the stairs that day, his eyes had immediately flown towards Kieran and widened.  The man didn’t even glance towards his godchildren.  Kieran had stood up, and was about to lead the children back to the parlour, but Sirius was blocking the path.  The children were once again muffling their laughs, and Kieran was thinking ‘What now?  I should know better than to eat or drink anything those two give me.’  Alarmingly, an intense look came over Sirius’s face, and with it, a slow creeping smile.

 

 “Hello there.  I don’t believe we’ve met,” said Sirius smoothly.  The man had somehow bridged the gap between them, and was standing a little too close to Kieran.  Kieran flicked a glance at the children, and their eyes were sparkling.  They both had their hands clamped over their mouths, as though trying to forcibly restrain their laughter.  What in the world had those two little rascals done now?

 

 “We’ve met, sir,” said Kieran stiffly, his attention back on the man who was examining his face with a bewildering intensity.

 

 “Sir?” Sirius echoed, looking down at Kieran’s lips, before returning his grey gaze to Kiernan’s eyes.  Sirius’s eyes seemed to smoulder with a burning heat.  “Please.  Call me Sirius.”

 

For some reason, Kieran felt himself blushing.  Why had the children’s guardian just looked at his lips like they were delectable chocolates?

 

 “I - erm - I really need to get back to the children’s education,” Kieran said nervously, trying to back away, but he was pinned against the wall.

 

 “The children?” Sirius flicked a glance at his two godchildren, who were trying to look innocent, but they were both shaking with mirth.  As soon as Sirius broke his gaze, Kieran felt as though he could breath again, and he couldn’t help but give the two Potter children a glare, which seemed to send them over the edge.  They were pealing with laughter, wiping away tears of merriment.  Sirius had backed a step away from Kieran and was examining his face.  But this time, it was without the same heated intensity.  Suddenly, Sirius gave him a rueful smile.

 

 “You ate the scone, didn’t you?” Sirius asked, grinning.

 

Kieran nodded.  “How did you know?  What did it do to me?”

 

Sirius suddenly stepped close to Kieran once again, and Kieran’s heart skipped a beat.  The warm heat had returned to Sirius’s eyes.  Sirius traced the edge of Kieran’s jaw with an elegant hand, and his grey eyes dropped back down to Kieran’s lips.  Kieran swallowed.

 

 “Come,” said Sirius seductive laziness.  “See for yourself.”  Suddenly, Sirius pulled away, and led Kieran towards a mirror.  When Kieran saw his reflection, he was shocked - he was beautiful!  It was almost painful to tear his gaze away from his own face.  However, when he finally did, he noticed the two children looking up at him with amused smiles.  As for Sirius, his expression was almost regretful.  Kieran shook his head.

 

 “You two will be the death of me,” Kieran sighed as he looked at his two charges.  That only elicited more giggles.

 

After about three months, the household had fallen into a routine.  The children were bright and enthusiastic about what he had to teach them.  Their robes were the right size, and they were eating (mostly) healthy breakfasts, though he often caught them eating chocolate frogs when they thought he wasn’t looking.  They still pranked him, but it had decreased to once a week, rather than every day.  He supposed it must take a lot of energy to plan a new prank each day.  All should have been well, but as the weeks passed, the children seemed to grow more and more morose, and oddly paranoid.

 

Kieran had tried to ask the children what was wrong, but they were unwilling to tell him.  Furthermore, they had become very clingy which was disconcerting.  Whenever he wanted to move from one place to another in the house, the children would insist on going first, cautiously checking around corners and doorways.  They had taken to examining his robes rather closely, and on top of that, they were determined to monitor what he ate.  Their protectiveness was rather adorable, but at the same time, it was also maddening.

 

 “What is this about?” Kieran asked the children, once again.  “Is it your guardian?  Has he done something to frighten you, or threaten you or even me?”

 

 “Padfoot?”  The children shared a glance, that Kieran couldn’t read.  They seemed unwilling to answer, which only made Kieran uneasy.

 

 “You two do know that if your guardian has done anything to make you uneasy, I’ll be there to help, don’t you?” Kieran asked gently.

 

 “You?  Help?” Rosie asked, incredulously.

 

 “What can you even do?” Harry questioned.  It took an effort for Kieran not to frown.  Did the children have so little faith in him?

 

 “Well, that depends on what the problem is.  Can you tell me what it is?” Kieran asked gently.  The children looked at each other, and then down to the ground.  Whatever it was, they seemed determined to keep it between them. 

 

A part of Kieran hoped the problem would go away on it’s own, but the children continued their odd behaviour, without ever explaining themselves.  It was frustrating that the children did not seem to trust him.  However, he could see how their loyalties would first be to Sirius. If the situation was related to choosing between Sirius and himself (and Kieran was fairly sure that it was), then the children would feel divided.  So, Kieran decided that the best thing he could do was some research on Sirius Black, just so he knew what he was up against.

 

It was easy to find information about the Black family itself.  It was a very old, and very well-established family, with many connection.  Much of what he learned about the Black family reinforced the rumours he had heard and made him a bit uneasy.  The Black family had produced a long line of Dark witches and wizards, and their name was connected with many other pureblood families.  Many of the Blacks seemed to have a remarkable talent for the Dark Arts.  Aristocratic beauty was another known Black attribute, which Kieran could easily see, from his encounters with Sirius.  No matter how disheveled the man was, he had a way of always looking elegant and captivating.  However, insanity also ran in the family as well.  Could Sirius Black be insane?  That could be one reason for the children’s apprehensiveness.  That particular hypothesis did not give him any comfort.  But the children didn’t seem to be uneasy for their own sake - only for Kieran’s.  Did Sirius have a form of insanity that only manifested around strangers?

 

Kieran had asked the employment agency if they had any information about Mr. Black, but they had a policy of keeping such details confidential.  However, he did manage to discover that the longest time a tutor had lasted in the Black household was four months.  That piece of information was hardly reassuring.

 

It took a while before Kieran discovered that Sirius made his living by creating joke and prank products.  Well, ‘making a living’ would be a bit of a stretch - Sirius could easily live the rest of his days in comfort off the Black fortune.  It would be more apt to say that the products he created were more of a hobby.  Kieran suddenly understood how the children were capable of such sophisticated pranks.  They likely made use of their godfather’s products.  But how did all this information tie together?

 

More digging revealed mostly information about Sirius’s past: He had been a Gryffindor (much to the shock and dismay of his own family), he had been best friends with the Potter children’s father, as well as two other Gryffindor boys.  And every so often, Sirius’s name would show up in the scandal papers, due to some sort of shocking, torrid love affair with some celebrity witch or wizard.  All in all, Sirius was a rather interesting person.

 

At this point, Kieran had been the Potters’ tutor for over five months - almost six - and both Harry and Rosie had been tight-lipped for the past two or three months.  They acted surprisingly vigilant, and every so often, there was a hint of triumph in their eyes, as though they had vanquished something, but when he asked them about it, they would say nothing.  Unable to endure the mystery any longer, Kieran decided it was time to talk to Sirius himself.  The question was, how should he go about it?  Should he book an appointment with the man?  Somehow, he couldn’t imagine Sirius Black taking appointments.  Perhaps the best course of actions would be to stay in the Black household until late afternoon, and then take Sirius aside for a private talk.  After Sirius had his coffee of course.

 

His mind set, Kieran decided he would speak to Sirius on Monday.  That would give him the weekend to plot out what he might want to say, though considering how little he actually knew about Sirius, such a plan would likely be of little value.  When Monday rolled around, neither Harry nor Rosie seemed to question why Kieran was staying at the house later than normal.  Of course, the children did make him rather jumpy with their comments such as “Wait!  Don’t sit in the chair yet!” or “Stop!  We need to check what’s around the corner!”  As for Sirius, once he finally descended from his room, he was his usual bleary-eyed self.  It occurred to Kieran that he had never actually seen Sirius wearing anything other than his sleeping robes.  Yet, he knew that Sirius had a rather sharp, though casual sense of style, based on the pictures he had seen from the scandal papers.   Once Sirius had made it halfway through his cup of coffee, Kieran cleared his throat.  

 

  “May I speak to you in private, sir?” Kieran asked the older man.  Sirius’s gaze flicked towards him, and it almost looked like Sirius was trying to remember who he was.  Harry and Rosie were looking at Kieran with wide, worried eyes.  Rosie almost looked like she was shaking her head, but perhaps Kieran was imagining things.

 

 “Sure.  Right.  How about in the parlour,” Sirius said.  He didn’t sound particularly enthusiastic, but Sirius was not a morning person.  Or in this case, an afternoon person.  Kieran nodded.  He followed Sirius upstairs and into the parlour, which was more of a playroom.  It presented a rather amusing image, to see the debonair Sirius surrounded by toys.  Sirius shut the parlour door and gestured Kieran towards one of the chairs.  Sirius then sat across from him, in a sofa.  His posture was relaxed, with his arms stretched across the back of the sofa, and his legs casually crossed.  Even with all the toys around him, Sirius managed to convey an urbane sort of worldliness, and he looked like he owned the entire room.

 

 “What did you want to speak about Mr. -” Sirius trailed off.  After all these months, the man still didn’t know the name of his godchildren’s tutor.  What did Sirius fill his head with all day?

 

 “Kieran Kinnaird, sir.”

 

 “Right.  Kinnaird.”  Despite the casual posture, Sirius was examining Kieran rather attentively.  Sirius might have looked like an indolent aristocrat at first glance, but he also looked like someone that shouldn’t be taken lightly.  Sirius seemed to be waiting for Kieran to speak.

 

 “Well - sir -”

 

 “Sirius.”

 

 “Excuse me?” Kieran asked.

 

 “Call me Sirius.”

 

 “Oh.  Well, Sirius, I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but your godchildren have been acting rather strange lately.”

 

 “Strange?  How so?” Sirius asked.  As soon as Kieran had mentioned the children, Sirius’s posture had changed.  He was no longer leaning back against the sofa, but had shifted his weight forward, like a predatory wolf, ready to protect his pack.  Though it was a bit threatening, Kieran found the gesture reassuring on the children’s behalf.

 

 “Well, si - Sirius, they’ve been acting really nervous and jumpy.  They’ve been like that for the past two months, at least.”

 

 “Two months?”  Sirius narrowed his eyes.  “How long have you been here, Kinnaird?”

 

 “Erm - I believe close to - six months now,” Kieran replied.

 

 “Six months!” Sirius exclaimed.  Suddenly Sirius seemed to relax, and was once again assessing Kieran.  But this time, there was an amused glint in his eyes.  Kieran couldn’t help but feel annoyed.  Obviously, Sirius knew something, and wasn’t telling him.

 

 “What of it?” Kieran asked.

 

Sirius smirked.  “I don’t think there has been a tutor who has stayed here above three months.”

 

 “Four, actually.” Kieran replied.  Sirius looked at him quizzically.  “Oh - I asked the employment agency.  The longest that a tutor has been employed here is four months.”

 

 “Indeed,” Sirius drawled.  “And in this time - have any - erm - mishaps befallen you?”

 

 “Mishaps?  Well, aside from the children’s pranks, not really.  But I grew up with three siblings si - Sirius.  I’m no stranger to pranks,” Kieran replied.

 

 “Oh?  Only the children’s pranks?”  Suddenly Sirius turned his head towards the parlour door, and Kieran noticed it was open a crack.  He had been certain that Sirius had shut that door - it seemed the children were no strangers to eavesdropping.

 

 “I think I’m starting to see the picture,” Sirius murmured, with humour in his voice.  Kieran had no idea what Sirius was talking about.  Frankly, he had no idea what was going on at all.

 

 “Come in pups!” Sirius called at the door.  “Don’t pretend you’re not there - even if I can’t see you, I can hear you.”

 

Guiltily, Harry and Rosie entered the room, staring woefully at Sirius. 

 

 “We didn’t mean to spy,” said Rosie.  

 

Sirius barked a laugh.  “Yes you did pup.  Now come here, scamps!”  The children walked up to Sirius, peeking glances towards Kieran. 

 

 “Have you two been disabling my prototypes?” Sirius asked the children.  They looked at one another before looking mutinously towards Sirius.

 

 “We didn’t want you to scare Kieran away,” Harry said stubbornly.

 

 “You were scaring away the other ones - even that one nice one,” Rosie added.  “We didn’t want you scaring away this one.”

 

 “We like him,” said Harry.

 

 “He’s not one of your tes’ subjects,” said Rosie.  Sirius threw back his head and laughed.

 

 “Pups!  If you liked him so much, you should have said he was off limits.  You didn’t have to go around disabling all my prototypes.”  Sirius tousled Harry and Rosie’s hair.  “Off you go.  I think your Mr. Kieran needs an explanation.”

 

 “You won’t hurt him?” Rosie asked, worriedly.

 

Sirius rolled his eyes.  “I’m wicked, but not that wicked.”  Rosie grinned, before following Harry out of the room, shooting a fleeting glance at Kieran before she shut the door behind her.

 

 “Test subject?” Kieran asked, once the children were gone.

 

Sirius grinned sheepishly.  “I may or may not have tested a number of my new projects on the children’s tutors.”

 

  “I can see why most of them haven’t even lasted half a year,” Kieran said wryly.

 

Sirius laughed.  “Well, I needed to test those projects on someone.”

 

 “And who better than a completely unwitting target?”

 

 “Exactly!” Sirius exclaimed.  Kieran rolled his eyes.

 

 “Well, unfortunately, you’re off limits now.  It seems like the pups have been looking out for you.”

 

Kieran shook his head and smiled.  “I suppose it all makes sense now.  Though it does feel a bit emasculating, knowing that seven and eight year olds are protecting me.”

 

 “Ha!” Sirius barked in amusement.  “Try living with them permanently.”

 

Kieran looked towards the door and then back at Sirius.  “They are really good children.  I feel fortunate to have met them.”

 

Sirius smiled.  “They are good pups aren’t they?  Well, I suppose that matter has been settled.  I’d best get used to the sight of you.  Though you know - if you did decide to eat another raisin scone - I could take you out to dinner sometime.”  Sirius raised his eyebrow suggestively.  When Kieran blushed, Sirius could only laugh.  Life had just gotten a little more interesting.


	18. Chapter 18

Christmas eve had come, and since Remus’s little flat did not have a fireplace, Remus apparated with Romulus to the front of twelve Grimmauld Place. The ground was covered in a light layer of snow, and the branches of the trees looked like they were gilded with a crisp whiteness.  There was a festive wreath adorning the front door.  Remus and Romulus had brought along their bundle of gifts, and although Remus was looking forward to seeing Sirius, Harry and Rosie again, his mood was subdued.  Today was the day that they were going to visit James and Lily Potter in St. Mungo’s.  Remus hadn’t seen them in decade, though he did visit them in St. Mungo’s once, long ago.  The experience had wrecked his sensitive emotional state, and as he remembered the damage that had been done to his friends, feelings of intense guilt flooded him once again.  Remus took a deep breath, and let the guilt pass through him, until the force of the feelings had subsided.  Then he knocked on the door.

 

The familiar face of Kreacher answered the door, and he looked even more wrinkled than Remus remembered.  However, before he could throw out any insults, Harry and Rosie came up behind him, and ushered Remus and Romulus through the door.  Their smiles were warm, but also strained.  It was evident that visiting their parents was an emotional burden for the children.

 

 “Hi Remus, Hi Rom.  You can give the gifts to Kreacher,” Rosie was saying.  “He’ll put them under the tree.”

 

 “Sirius should be down soon,” Harry told them.  “He’s just prettying himself up.”

 

Remus couldn’t help but smile at that.  Sirius was vain, yes, but he also never put that much thought into his looks.  He was more the type who just threw something on, and somehow looked good in it.  After removing his coat and scarf, Remus looked around the hallway, and peered into the dining room.  He noticed that the place was as gloomy as ever and had barely changed.  Sirius used to loathe this place and Remus thought that Sirius would have wanted to do a complete overhaul of the decor once it was his.  On the other hand, he also couldn't imagine Sirius picking out wallpaper and furniture.  It seemed more like him to just settle down and make himself comfortable, wherever he was.  The children certainly didn’t appear to notice the dreariness of the atmosphere.

 

Romulus was examining the house with mild curiosity.  The place smelled old - very old.  On top of that, the house gave him a prickling feeling that brought to mind Dark Magic.  Despite looking like a fairly large home, the gloomy colour scheme, and dim lighting enhanced the shadows, and made the house feel oppressive.

 

 “Try not to wake old Walburga there,” Remus said to Romulus softly, indicating the portrait framed by velvet curtains.  Romulus nodded.  He usually tried to stay as silent as he could, but having a reminder never hurt.  It was instinctive for him to try and go unnoticed.

 

 “Would you like a tour?” Primrose asked him.  Romulus inclined his head, and Primrose indicated for him to follow.  Though Primrose usually offered a verbal description as she showed guests through the house, she remained silent with Romulus.  She knew that talk would only disrupt his observations.  As Romulus trailed behind her, first up the stairs, and then peering into the various rooms and bathrooms, she wondered how the house appeared to him.  She found herself looking at Grimmauld place through new eyes.  It certainly wasn’t as majestic and awe-inspiring as Hogwarts, nor as stately and grand as the Longbottom Estate.  But at the same time, it was home.  When she looked around, she didn’t see the furniture or the wallpaper - she saw the pranks that she and Harry had played on Sirius (not to mention the pranks he played on them).  She saw her favourite childhood toys, and the imaginary fort that she had Harry used to have.  She remembered books she read, and the things that her tutors had taught her.  This, more than anyplace else, was her home.

 

Romulus found Primrose’s home surprisingly interesting.  After all, it was the home of his friend, and he felt curious about where she lived.  Grimmauld Place felt completely different from Remus’s flat (which always seemed more utilitarian than homey), and also very different than Hogwarts.  Though the magic at Hogwarts was very powerful, it also generally felt benign, as though the school itself sought to protect its inhabitants.  Grimmauld Place did not feel at all benign.  At the same time, there wasn’t any feeling of overt threat, but he had the sense that the house wasn’t precisely willing to accept him.  If anything, as much as he was on guard in this house, it was on guard against him.  Too many generations of purebloods had imbued this house with their old values.  Creatures such as himself were to be kept at an arm’s length at best, or if the pureblood’s antipathy was particularly strong, then it was believed that non-human magical beings needed to be put down or enslaved.

 

Primrose ended up showing Romulus the entire house, aside from the bedrooms that were occupied.  She had even brought him up to the attic, which was, in a way, most interesting of all, because of the old power that he could sense from some of the items that had been set aside and forgotten.  There was quite a lot of old, damaged pieces of furniture.  There were boxes that contained some very ancient looking magazines, advertising old fashioned products such as magical snuff boxes, and crude looking broomsticks.  Other boxes contained strange containers and vials that smelled unfamiliar (though not necessarily dangerous).  There were strange knick knacks and tools, and as he held them up, he could see that even Primrose had no idea what they were for.  He even noticed an old, make-shift potions lab (and a blackened hole in the floor).  Evidently, the Potter children had experienced some potions mishaps here in the attic.

 

Romulus did not get a chance to explore all the attic had to offer.  Before long, the children were called downstairs.  It was soon time to depart for St. Mungo’s.  Romulus had been indecisive about whether or not he wanted to go.  He had no relation at all to the Potters, and unease had radiated off Remus as well as Primrose at the prospect of seeing Lily and James Potter.  True, he felt a morbid sort of curiosity about what they were like, but it would have been disrespectful to visit his friend’s parents out of morbid curiosity.

 

In the end, Romulus decided he would go, if only to offer support to his adopted father and his friend Primrose.  Remus was looking particularly pale - almost paler than he would be during the time before and after the full moon.  It was odd to see Remus feeling a mix of both apprehension as well as determination, and even longing.  Remus had told him very little about his own past, but Romulus could surmise that Remus had been as close to James Potter as he was to Sirius Black.  They were all bearing small gifts for James and Lily Potter, to celebrate the Christmas season.

 

The group of them apparated to an isolated alleyway and walked up to a red-bricked, condemned department store that was the gateway to St. Mungos.  Romulus had never before visited the hospital.  He wasn’t even certain if hospitals served werewolves like himself.  The interior to St. Mungo's was open and bright.  The walls were an off-white, and the reception area was fairly busy, with both Healers in their lime green uniforms, and nurses, as well as patients and their waiting family members.  However, despite all the people, it was relatively quiet.  Patients and their families seemed to keep their voices low.  Only the staff maintained a brisk, and bustling demeanour.  The gifts that Sirius, Primrose, Harry and Remus had brought were carefully examined at the reception area to ensure they would cause no harm.  As this was being done, Romulus carefully examined his surroundings.

 

Romulus could see brightly coloured signs that directed staff and patients to the various wards.  On the first floor, there were signs indicating the  Artefact Accidents ward and the Creature-Induced Injuries ward.  There was another sign indicating that the second floor dealt with Magical Bugs and Diseases.  Once the gifts were declared safe, Romulus followed behind Primrose’s family as they made their way to the lift up to the fourth floor.  The sign there indicated that this ward dealt specifically with spell damage.  They walked along a corridor, and turned a bend.  This took them to ward where long-term residents were kept.  The ward was kept locked, and there was a receptionist desk where a weary-looking nurse sat.  Sirius went up to the desk, and spoke softly to the nurse, who seemed to recognize him, and gave him warm smile, nodding to both Primrose and Harry.  She gave them all a form to sign, and as Romulus wrote down his signature, he felt a mild buzz of benign magic.

 

Pressing what looked like a shiny bracelet on her wrist, the receptionist called over a nurse, who strode into the ward with a business-like demeanour.   The nurse unlocked the long-term residents ward and led the group within.  Romulus could feel the tension of the group increasing.  Remus’s breathing was shallow, while Primrose and Harry kept their gaze cast downwards.  It made the hairs on his arms and neck rise with foreboding.  There was a long corridor behind the door, and after turning a corner, the nurse unlocked another door to the private room where James and Lily Potter permanently resided.

 

Sirius, Primrose and Harry filed into the room first, followed by Remus and finally Romulus.  The chamber was simple, with two beds on each end, and a table between.  On one bed sat James Potter.  On the other bed, Lily Potter was lying down and curled up into a tight ball, trembling.

 

 “Hello, Prongs, Hello Lily,” Sirius said gently.  He had purchased a soft, new throw blanket charmed with a calming spell, and he untied the ribbons, and gently placed it over Lily.  However, Lily was unresponsive, and continued to tremble.

 

 “Hi mum, Hi dad,” Primrose and Harry were saying.  “Merry Christmas.”  The siblings had purchased a set of plush deer, a stag and a doe, and they placed these on the table by the beds.

 

Romulus, who had been watching James and Lily noticed that the Potters acted completely unaware that they had any visitors.  James seemed to be muttering something incomprehensible, occasionally punctuated by sharp yelps, while Lily only whimpered and moaned.  It was unnerving, how much the Potter children resembled their parents.  Harry’s face was so much like James’s, whereas Primrose resembled her mother.  It made him afraid, as though he were glimpsing some strange omen of doom.  

 

He looked over at Primrose, and found himself wishing that such a fate should never befall her.  It had never occurred to him that he might ever lose her, but now, the idea had a sharp-edged reality in his mind.  She was his friend - a real friend.  It made him feel protective, and yet helpless at the same time.  He almost wanted to touch her, just to make sure she was solid.  Romulus wasn’t prone to intense feelings, but the sudden depth of his emotions for his friend startled him.  However, he was able to convince himself that it was natural to feel this way about packmates.

 

Beyond that, Romulus could also feel a prickling instinctive fear.  It was the natural sort of fear that any animal would feel when encountering another creature with an illness or affliction - the fear that warned one to run away, and keep safe.  There was something that seemed so very wrong about the Potters.  He knew beforehand what to expect, but hearing something, and seeing it before his very eyes was completely different.  He wanted to run and to be as far as this place as he could be, but he forced himself to stay still.

 

 “Hi Prongs, Hi Lily,” he could hear Remus saying, though Remus’s voice seemed to break.  “It’s been a long time.  I’m - so sorry.  About everything.”  Remus had purchased some sweets for the Potters, but these had to be given over to the nurse, who promised to give them to the Potters at meal time. 

 

Primrose and Harry had chosen to sit by Lily on the edge of her bed, while Remus stood by James, resting a hand on the man’s shoulder.  All of them seemed to be having one-sided conversations with the completely passive residents of the room.  Remus and Sirius were gently talking to James about old times.  Harry and Primrose were telling their mother about Hogwarts and their various classes.  Unsure of what to do, Romulus stood by his adopted father, silently offering him strength and comfort.  Remus could not help the silent tears that fell from his eyes, but Sirius, Primrose and Harry were dried eyed.

 

After an hour, the group decided to depart.  They were all quiet and lost in their own thoughts.  He could hear Sirius softly comment to Primrose and Harry that it had been a good visit.  Primrose had warned Romulus that sometimes, the elder Potters had fits of unstoppable screaming.  Romulus could see how this visit had been comparably good.  Romulus glanced over at his his friend.  She seemed sadder than he had ever seen her, and he felt the oddest twist in his heart.  Her sadness made him feel sad as well, which left him puzzled.  Romulus didn’t consider himself the emotional-sort.  Why should Primrose’s sadness make him so sad?  He gave a slight shake of his head, as though trying to shed the emotions.  

 

 “I’m glad you came,” He could hear Sirius saying to Remus in a low voice.  Remus looked at his friend and nodded.  “It might not seem like it, but - I like to think that on some level, they know we’ve come by to see them.”  At this words, Remus could feel the prickling tightness once again rising in his throat.

 

 “I - I’d like to see them again,” Remus said.  Sirius nodded solemnly.

 

When they were back at Grimmauld Place, the mood remained somber.  This bothered Romulus more than it typically would.  He generally had a serious and quiet temperament, but his emotions had a heavier feel than usual.  Rather than going their separate ways, the group had all sat down at the long rectangular table in the dining room.  At some point, Sirius had started reminiscing about the little things he remembered about James and Lily, and Remus began to join in, recalling his own memories.  

 

The warm tones of Sirius’s and Remus’s stories appeared to pull Primrose and Harry out of their stupor, and they leaned in to listen to tales they had heard, as well as others that were completely new to them.  Remus’s perspective provided a yet unheard of perspective of their parents.  They were able to see James and Lily in a new light, and it brought smiles to their faces to think of the vibrant people that their parents once were.  Somehow, with all of them together, they were able to bring a measure of healing to their own hearts, and by evening, most of them were smiling, and filled with a renewed sense of love for James and Lily Potter.  Most of them except for Romulus.  He couldn’t help but feel like an intruder, amidst a family where he did not quite belong.  But when Remus wrapped an arm around his shoulder, drawing him into his warmth, Romulus felt the loneliness start to unravel.

 

Christmas had finally arrived.  Romulus, as usual, had woken up in the middle of the night.  It was unsettling to wake in an unfamiliar place, but it helped that the house carried Primrose’s scent. Fortunately, the strange sadness of yesterday was gone, and he felt relieved to return to his usual emotional state.  His emotions were like the early morning mist - quiet, subtle and still.  He didn’t usually feel deep sadness, but neither was he prone to heights of joy.

 

Rather than staying in the room, he crept up to the attic to see what interesting things he could find.  Christmas had never been a particularly exciting time for Romulus.  Sometimes, he and Remus would exchange gifts, but other times, they would just enjoy a shared activity, such as travelling to some place that neither of them had been to before.  Romulus particularly liked places with mystical or magical histories, such as Druidic landmarks or monuments.  However, one of the greatest benefits of travelling was being able to collect new and unusual plants for uses in his potions.

 

Romulus decided that it would be an interesting experience to spend Christmas with another family.  Though Sirius Black was much livelier and more playful than Remus, Romulus found him to be likeable.  In part, this was because he was Remus’s friend, and Romulus was a bit biased towards liking those who liked Remus.  However, he couldn’t say the same for Harry.  Romulus knew that Primrose had concerns about Harry, and although Romulus could not explain it, he sensed something was off as well.

 

It didn’t have anything to do with how Harry smelled - Harry’s basic scent was usually unvarying.  It was just that sometimes, Harry made the hair on the back of his arms and neck rise.  There was something inconsistent about Harry, and normal people weren’t usually so inconsistent.  Sometimes, he wondered whether Harry might be insane, but as far as he was aware, madness wasn’t common in the Potter line, the way it was in the Black line.  Harry’s magic also seemed to fluctuate.  At times, he seemed average, but at other times, he seemed to radiate with immense magical ability.  It wasn’t as though Romulus could see magical auras (if such a thing existed.)  Iit was just that as a werewolf, he was more sensitive to magic than humans were.  He noticed too that Harry frequently visited the Come and Go Room.  He could never tell what Harry did there, and on it’s own, it was hardly suspicious.  Unfortunately, it did not seem possible to enter the Come and Go room when it was already in use.

 

When Romulus could hear the other inhabitants starting to rise, he put down the old magazine he had been reading in the attic.  The article was describing an interesting blood ritual that could be used to enhance protective potions.  Romulus knew that in previous ages, Dark magic was more acceptable, and blood magic was common.  Nowadays, any hint of blood magic was looked upon with immediate suspicion, and whispers that one was a Death Eater.  As he climbed down the stairs, he was greeted by Primrose and Harry who were still in their pyjamas.

 

  “I don’t think Sirius will wake until past noon,” Primrose told him.  “But - well, since it is Christmas, he might make an effort to get up early.”  Primrose turned to look at Harry and grinned mischievously.  “That or we could find a way to terrify him into wakefulness.”

 

Harry’s eyes twinkled with amusement.  “What do you have in mind?”

 

 “How about a competition?” Primrose suggested.  “We’ll each come up with one idea.  Oh!  I know!  We can ask Remus to judge.  And whoever wins - umm -”  Primrose and Harry paused and both wore looks of thoughtful consideration.  As two people who already had too many things, it was hard to think of a suitable prize.

 

 “Whoever loses will have to drink a mystery potion that I have brewed,” Romulus said.  The Potter children both looked at him with surprise, though mostly because it was so unusual for him to speak.

 

Primrose broke into a wide grin.  “Sure!  That works for me.  Harry?”

 

Harry looked at Romulus consideringly and nodded.  “It won’t be anything that hurts us, will it?  You won’t give us a poison?”

 

 “Harry!” Primrose exclaimed, affronted on Romulus’s behalf, though a part of her did wonder if Romulus would feed them a poison.  If he did, it would probably only be a mild one.

 

 “It won’t be a poison,” Romulus said.  The siblings nodded.  The trio walked down to the dining room and sat down at their usual spots, across from one another.  Remus was already awake, and was eating breakfast, and reading one of Primrose’s old editions of  _ The Quibbler. _

 

 “Hey cubs, Merry Christmas!” said Remus.

 

 “Merry Christmas Remus!” the children chimed happily.

 

 “You’re reading  _ The Quibbler! _ ” Primrose exclaimed.

 

 “This is yours then?” Remus asked.  Primrose nodded and then looked towards the kitchen, calling for Kreacher.  While she wasn’t looking Harry and Remus shared a look of mutual understanding, and Harry rolled his eyes.  Remus gave him a knowing grin.  Once Kreacher had set out plates of food for all the children, Primrose and Harry explained their competition to scare Sirius awake.  They informed Remus that he had been appointed as the judge.

 

 “I see that Sirius has kept the Marauder tradition well and alive,” Remus said with amusement.  “So what are your ideas?”

 

 “We haven’t thought of that yet,” Primrose said.

 

 “We’ll think of something by the end of breakfast,” Harry decided.  Primrose agreed.  As a result, breakfast was eaten in relative silence, while the Potter children contemplated the best way to wake Sirius.  Once the last bit of food was finished off, the siblings set down their utensils, and gave each other a look.

 

 “Ready?” Remus asked.  They nodded.

 

 “You first,” said Harry.

 

 “Fine,” Primrose agreed.  “My idea was - well -” she grinned wickedly.  “Summoning an infestation of fleas.”

 

Remus cringed.  “Ooh - that’s just heartless cruelty.  Harry?  Do you have an idea that can beat that?”

 

 “Hm -” said Harry.  “I was thinking of something along the lines of a fake Howler.  From a very angry ex, of course.”

That elicited another wince from Remus.  “How does Padfoot even live with you two?” He asked.  “I’m surprised he’s survived for this long.”

 

Both children grinned, taking it as a compliment.  “So?” Primrose asked.  “How shall we wake Padfoot?”

 

 “At this point, I’m tempted just to let Padfoot sleep,” Remus confessed.  Neither children seemed particularly pleased about this idea.  “Since I really don’t want to be caught in the backlash of a flea infestation, I’d say that Harry wins this round.”

 

 “Yes!!” Harry exclaimed triumphantly.  “I even know which ex I’ll use.”

 

 “Bambi?” Primrose asked.

 

 “Bambi,” Harry echoed.

 

 “Padfoot dated a girl named Bambi?”  Remus’s face showed a mix of disgust and repugnance at the notion.  The siblings shared his expression of disgust, mingled with wry amusement.

 

Romulus was mildly amused by the exchange, but he had been disappointed that Harry had won.  He had been planning to give Harry a potion that detected if a person was affected by Dark magic.  Now, instead, he’d have to think up something to use on Primrose.  Perhaps a Giggling Draught.  It was a potion he had created, which was a milder version of the Laugh-Inducing Potion.  It mostly just caused the drinker to giggle at the most inopportune moments for several hours.  Plus, after how much Primrose’s sadness had affected him yesterday, he wanted to see her laughing.

 

Harry set off to create the Howler, using a charm to modify his voice to sound like the so-called Bambi.  Primrose and Harry giggled over what they would make the Howler say.  Their heads were touching as they whispered and laughed.  Romulus watched the scene with a distant sort of curiosity.  Harry didn’t feel dangerous at the moment, but Romulus mistrusted him in general.  It was still interesting to see how Primrose behaved outside of school.  She was much more playful and light-hearted.  He found himself thinking that it would be nice to see more of that side of her.  But he couldn’t imagine himself being the sort of person who could bring out that aspect of her personality.  As for the Howler, it was designed so that as soon as Hedwig released it onto Sirius’s bed, it would start screaming. Once they were done, they gave the Howler to Hedwig.  Being the clever owl that she was, she had been trained to use a piece of wire to unlatch Sirius’s bedroom window from the outside.

 

In excitement, the group of them dashed up the stairs and listened eagerly in front of Sirius’s bedroom for the fateful letter to arrive.  Primrose and Harry were kneeling, with ears pressed at the door, while Remus stood above them.  Romulus stayed a bit behind, but he was still curious to see what would happen.  If he hadn’t heard the stories, he never would have guessed that Remus had ever engaged in pranking.  It was never a part of his life as he grew up.  It wasn’t a long wait for the letter to arrive.  Hedwig dropped the letter onto Sirius’s bed, and flew off immediately, just as the letter began it’s angry tirade.

 

_ SIRI-POO!!!  _ The letter screeched in an extremely nasal-sounding, feminine voice.  The voice was more painful to listen to that nails on a blackboard.

 

_ HOW DARE YOU IGNORE ME!!!!   _

 

They could hear Sirius jump awake, and they muffled their giggles.  “Merlin’s bollocks!!” Sirius exclaimed.  “Not her - not again!”

 

_ I KNOW YOU STILL WUV ME, SIRI-POO.  DON’T DENY IT!!  WE HAD SOMETHING SPECIAL!!!  _  The nasally voice continued

 

_ JUST YOU WAIT!!  I’LL MAKE YOU WUV ME AGAIN, SIRI-POO!!! WE CAN BE TOGETHER FOREVER, AND EVER, AND EVER, AND EVER, AND EVER, AND EVER….. _

 

Sirius pulled open his door only to trip and tumble over his godchildren who had been kneeling by his door.  His sleeping robes were wrinkled and crooked, and Sirius’s hair looked like a wild bird’s nest.  Primrose and Harry, and even Remus were laughing at Sirius’s horrified expression as he scrambled to escape the voice of the so-called Bambi.  As soon as he noticed Harry and Primrose, Sirius’s expression changed from horror to exasperation.

 

  “You little brats!!” Sirius exclaimed, from his awkward position on the floor.

 

 “Merry Christmas, Padfoot!” they chorused innocently, before breaking into another fit of uncontrollable giggles.  Even Remus was laughing, not with mild amusement, but with a full laugh that had him doubled over, and wiping away tears of mirth from his eyes.

 

 “Your face!” Remus blurted out, between laughs.  “I always said all those pranks would come back and bite you!”

 

Sirius scowled at Remus, but he couldn’t hold on to his annoyance for long.  He soon found himself chuckling in amusement at the children’s cleverness (not to mention that he was now wide-awake, without even having had a cup of coffee.)

 

 “What time is it?” Sirius asked.  It felt early - far too early.

 

 “A bit before eleven,” Remus replied.  Sirius groaned.  It was definitely too early.

 

 “Shall we open presents?” Primrose asked.  She was more excited about giving presents than receiving them.  With guests this year, her sense of anticipation only increased.  She was curious to see if Romulus would react to his present, or show the same indifference or coldness that he showed regarding everything else.  She wanted to know of Remus would like the book that she found for him.  As for Harry - well, it was difficult to guess.  Whether he liked a present or not, Harry always acted grateful.

 

As for Romulus, he didn’t feel much enthusiasm towards most aspects of Christmas.  However, seeing Remus relaxed and happy was itself a wonderful gift, and seeing Primrose smiling and laughing gave him a pleasant sense of assurance.  The group of them made their way down to the parlour, where a beautiful Christmas tree sat in the corner.  It was decorated in Gryffindor Red and Gold (with a few, new Ravenclaw Blue ornaments thrown in).  There were little golden stags that appeared to be running, dancing gingerbread men, globes that would glow red and then gold before turning back to red, sparkling lights that winked in and out of existence, and Bertie Bott’s every flavour candy canes.  Fairies were scattered throughout the tree to serve as lights, and there was a long string of tiny golden bells that chimed softly.

 

Beneath the tree was the largest assortment of presents that Romulus had ever seen.  Of course, Romulus was accustomed to receiving one or two presents at most, so anything more than that would seem abundant.  Primrose and Harry had situated themselves on the parlour floor, sitting cross legged, while Sirius and Remus plopped down on the sofa.  Romulus made his way towards one of the chairs, but when he caught Primrose’s beseeching expression, he sat on the floor next to her instead, as far from Harry as would be considered polite.  She gave him a wide smile in return, and he suddenly felt better.  The house elf Kreacher was called upon to dole out the presents, and before long, Romulus found himself surrounded by brightly wrapped boxes, bags and packets.

 

Neither Primrose nor Harry seemed to have any hesitation about unwrapping their gifts, so Romulus began on his own pile, curious about what he had received.  Around him, he could hear gasps of delight, and amused comments.  He also heard Primrose and Harry thanking Sirius and Remus, and Remus and Sirius thanking Primrose and Harry.

 

 “It’s wonderful Harry!” Primrose exclaimed, as she put a sparkling bracelet on her wrist.

 

 “It’s charmed to enhance healing magic,” Harry told her with a warm smile.

 

Remus seemed to be surrounded by books and more books, but he was delighted and excited about all his new reading material.  As for Romulus, he received some chocolate from Harry (and had purchased chocolate for Harry in turn); a set of rectangular-framed glasses from Sirius with a note informing him that it would enable him to see as clearly in the dark as he could during the day; a collapsable cauldron from Remus, which would make brewing potions easier when he was out in the field; and a beautiful potion stirrer from Primrose.  The core of the stirrer was wood, engraved with runes that could strengthen a brew, and it was coated in a thick layer of pure gold.  Romulus was carefully examining the stirring stick when he felt the hairs on his arms rising.  Warily, he looked over at Harry, and found himself wishing he sat closer to the door, which would have made it easier to run away.  The feeling of lightness had quickly dissipated.  Now, he felt only that instinctive unease that warned of trouble.

 

Harry was pulling what looked like a serpent out of a box, but the serpent’s back was covered with iridescent blackish green feathers.  It was a fairly small creature, but Romulus could immediately sense the threat it represented.  He had noticed the odd scent of the creature all day, and though he had not seen the feathered serpent until now, he recognized its predatory dominance.  The feeling of danger seemed to intensify.  He could feel magical power radiating from Harry, and when he flicked a glance over at Primrose, she was as stiff as a stone statue.  Without conscious thought, Romulus was backing away, desperate to be free of the danger.  He glanced over at Remus, and even his adopted father was looking particularly alert.

 

 “What’s that, Harry?” Sirius called, and suddenly, the feeling of danger melted away.  It was as though an oppressive shadow that had been looming over Romulus had been chased away by the flick of a light.

 

 “He’s beautiful, Rosie,” Harry said, sounding almost breathless as he looked over at his sister.  He twisted towards Sirius, and showed his godfather the feathered serpent that was coiling itself around his arm.

 

 “It’s a Kukulkan,” Primrose said softly.  She seemed troubled, but whatever had happened, she seemed to have no intention of confronting Harry about it.  “It’s a rare creature from South America.”

 

 “Does he have a name?” Harry asked, holding the Kukulkan up to gaze into its luminous golden eyes.

 

 “I’m not sure,” Primrose replied.  She peeked a glance over at Sirius.  While their godfather knew that they could speak parseltongue, she wasn’t certain that it was a good idea to reveal this information in front of Remus or Romulus.  It had been a family secret for so long, and they kept it closely guarded.

 

Romulus felt himself slowly starting to relax.  The sense of magic around Harry seemed to be returning back to normal levels, but nonetheless, there was no way that Romulus could ever feel comfortable around him.  After thanking all the appropriate people, he gathered up his gifts and walked over to Remus, as though intending to show his adopted father all his presents.  In fact, he had stood simply because it was easier to run when standing.  It was tempting to grab Primrose by the arm and pull her along with him, but he knew that it would be inappropriate.  Fortunately, the sense of immediate danger did not return, and the rest of Christmas was spent peacefully and surprisingly happily.


	19. Chapter 19

After a lavish Christmas dinner, with turkey, honey-glazed carrots, roasted potatoes Yorkshire pudding, and a decadent dessert of classic Christmas pudding, Remus and Romulus departed back to their flat.  Sirius had fallen asleep on the sofa (being woken early had left him feeling completely worn out once Remus left).  Rosie and Harry were on the floor of the parlour, trying to decide what to name the Kukulkan.  Though Rosie felt apprehensive about the feathered serpent, Harry seemed to be himself.  When he had first held the Kukulkan, and Rosie felt the enveloping blackness in the link between them, she had almost been tempted to take back the feathered serpent and return it to Magical Menagerie.  Whether it lived or died, she did not care at that moment - she could not help but think that she had made a horrible mistake.  Yet, the blackness did not fully manifest.  Just as in the pet store, it left as quickly as it came.

****

Harry did not seem to notice anything unusual or different.  She could hear him hissing at the Kukulkan, telling him what a beautiful creature he was.  The Kukulkan was content to entwine himself in a loose coil around Harry’s neck.

****

  “ _ What is your name? _ ” Harry hissed softly.

****

  “ _ I do not have one yet, _ ” the Kukulkan replied. “ _ What is your name, young Godling? _ ” 

****

Rosie and Harry shared a bewildered look.  ‘Young Godling?’  Where in the world did the Kukulkan come up with such an idea?  The word Godling was suggestive of power.  Perhaps that was just another way the feathered serpent described wizards.

****

 “ _ Why do you call me a Godling? _ ” Harry asked.  The Kukulkan looked at Harry as though he couldn’t believe the boy would ask such a foolish question.

****

 “ _ It is what you are.  It is what I am as well, _ ” the feathered serpent responded.  “ _ We are well matched, you and I. _ ”

****

Harry had no idea what to say to that.  Instead, Rosie and Harry decided they would try and find a suitable name for the Kukulkan.  They listed a number of names, trying to get a sense of what the serpent might like, but he rejected all their suggestions.  In the end, they started selecting books out of the Black library, finding increasingly archaic names.  Eventually, Harry found the name Sephtis in an old historical text, and the Kukulkan seemed to test the sound with his tongue.

****

 “ _ Sephtis - yes - that will do _ ,” the Kukulkan hissed with contentment.  Rosie and Harry’s eyes met and they breathed a sigh of relief.  It felt as though they had been looking at names for hours, and both of them had been worried that they wouldn’t find a name that night.

****

They went to bed that night, sated from the rich meal, and fell asleep quickly and easily in their familiar bedrooms, surrounded by their numerous toys and new gifts.  It had been so long since Harry had had a nightmare than when Rosie was jolted awake in the middle of the night, she felt completely disoriented and confused.

****

  “Harry?” Rosie murmured tiredly, and peered towards the window, trying to get a sense of the time.  Oddly, the sky was a strange blackish red, but Rosie did not give it much thought.  She pulled aside the covers, and climbed out of her bed.  Quietly, she crept towards the door, and for some odd reason, the door wasn’t where she expected it to be.  In fact, the whole layout of her bedroom looked wrong.

****

 “Merlin’s beard!” Rosie muttered in frustration, when she felt another jolt of intense fear through her link with Harry.

****

 “Harry!” she called out with concern.  Suddenly, she seemed to be in the corridor, and the gas lamps kept flickering on and off in uneven intervals.  The wallpaper looked extremely shabby - she could see parts that were peeling off, revealing molding patches underneath.  The carpet under her feet was extremely threadbare, and it felt like every time she turned a corner, there was yet another bend along the way.  When she looked behind her, the gas lamps seemed to have burnt out, and there was only a thick and heavy blackness that pressed at her back.  A shiver ran down her spine, and she felt another stab of terror mixed with helplessness through the link.

****

 “Harry!” Rosie cried out again.  “Where are you?”  She found herself descending a flight of stairs, and then another.  It felt as though she was climbing downwards, and downward into the bowels of the earth itself.  Suddenly, there was a black door to her left, that seemed too warped to fit its frame.  She pulled it open, and entered the room.  Usually when she wanted to find Harry, she could use the strength of their empathic link, but for some reason, the link felt equally strong (or weak) all around.  She was badly disoriented - Harry somehow felt like he was everywhere and nowhere at once.

****

Behind her, she heard a loud thump and she jumped.  The warped door had slammed shut.  She looked forward.  She was in some strange, tunnel-like space.  The walls here were of the same, peeling, rotting wallpaper, but the ceiling was low, and the ground beneath was cold, damp stone.  For a moment, she thought she heard a voice in the walls, saying “ _ Must tear….must rip….must kill…..” _ but instead of feeling sympathy for the creature in the walls, she felt afraid and started running.

****

She couldn’t tell where she was going, or where she even was, and Harry’s terror was mingling with her own.  She was turning yet another bend when a cold hand reached out and grabbed her by the arm, causing her to lose her balance, and fall backwards.  She screamed in terror, but she heard a familiar voice saying: “Shh!  Rosie!  It’s me, Harry!”

****

  “Harry?” Rosie asked, scanning her brother’s face as though trying to confirm that it really was him.  Harry looked strangely tired, and faded.  His hair was messier than she had seen it in a long time, and his cheeks were hollow.

****

 “It’s not safe here,” Harry was saying, peeking behind his shoulder into the dark abyss that lay behind him.  “I’m not alone here.  It’s coming.”

****

 “What’s coming?” Rosie asked, frightened.  “Who’s here?”

****

 “You have to help me,” Harry begged, his grip painfully tight on her arm.  Harry was peeking over his shoulder again, and this time his eyes widened in terror.  She could see nothing in the darkness, but she could feel something - something darker than the darkness itself.

****

 “You have to help me!” Harry cried again.  “Help me or I’ll never be able to leave!  I’m not alone, Rosie.  I’m not alone!”

****

Rosie was about to ask Harry what he meant, when his eyes suddenly went blank, and his mouth fell slack.  He dropped to his knees, and then collapsed on the floor, unconscious.  

****

  “Harry!!” Rosie screamed, and suddenly, feeling like she was pulled through a dark tunnel, she found herself panting, and awake in her bedroom.

****

  “Harry?” Rosie murmured, and her voice was a tired croak.  Had it all been a dream?  She tried to feel him through the link, but she could not seem to detect anything.  However that could mean he was asleep.  Her heart was pattering frantically in her chest, and ignoring the chill air, she thrust aside her blankets, and crept into Harry’s room.

****

Her brother seemed to be sleeping, and when she touched his arm, his warmth and solidity convinced her he was alright.  She felt something cold slither over her fingers, and jolted back, only to realize it was Sephtis.

****

  “ _ I guard him now _ ,” the feathered serpent hissed. 

****

Rosie frowned.  “ _ He’s my brother. _ ”  Sephtis did not seem to think that this deserved a reply.  Rosie could not help huffing in irritation.  She was starting to really regret purchasing the Kukulkan.

****

 “ _ Don’t let anything hurt him, _ ” Rosie scowled.

****

 “ _ Fear not, weak one.  So long as I am with him, I shall not let any harm come to him, _ ” Sephtis replied.  Despite the conviction in the feathered serpent’s words, Rosie did not feel particularly assured.  As she crept back to her bedroom and into her own bed, she found herself thinking ‘Sephtis might be able to guard him against outside dangers, but can he protect Harry from himself?’  She fell asleep, before fully comprehending the import of those words.

****

When Rosie woke up the next morning, she was left with a bad feeling in her gut.  She knew that she had had a bad nightmare, but all she could remember was dark, peeling corridors, a warped black door, and Harry collapsed on the ground.  She kept thinking that there was an important detail that she was missing, but the memory refused to surface.

****

In the days after Christmas, Harry was often out of the house, visiting friends (or so he said).  On many of these trips, Rosie noticed that the link between them would be completely blacked out, but Harry was usually back to normal once he returned.  She found herself wanting to follow him, and find out what he was doing. One time she had even asked to come along when he was visiting Neville, but it turned out to be a remarkably ordinary visit.  Frank and Alice Longbottom had made comments about how much she had grown, and asked her how she was liking Hogwarts, while Neville showed off all his Christmas presents (including an interesting magical plant that seemed to thrive on snow and ice).

****

The timing of Harry’s black outs made Rosie extremely suspicious.  While they had seemed random earlier in the year, they no longer seemed that way anymore.  And alarmingly, even when the link wasn’t blacked out, and Harry was ‘himself,’ he acted more distant than ever.  There were moments when Rosie almost thought she sensed impatience in their link, when Harry was around her.  However, she tried to convince herself that she was misinterpreting the situation.

****

Harry was also never without Sephtis - even when the feathered serpent hid himself under Harry’s robes, she could often hear its soft hisses.  Fortunately, in spite of Sephtis’s haughty manners, he was accepting of Rosie, Sirius, and all of Harry’s friends.  The Kukulkan allowed himself to be petted and fawned over, and though he did not understand human speech, he seemed to understand when people were talking about how beautiful he was.

****

Once it was January, and time to return back to Hogwarts, Rosie wasn’t sure if she felt relieved or upset.  She knew that she would miss Sirius and miss home, but without classes to distract her, she felt like she spent far too much time obsessing about Harry.  What made it worse was that she felt like she was not coming any closer to an answer.  She would comb over all her new books on curses, hoping to find an account that seemed similar to what Harry was experiencing, but there were so many overlapping possibilities that Harry’s curse could mean any number of things.  Rosie would often think back to the nightmare she had, believing that the answer was somewhere there, and yet, it always slipped away.  

****

When Harry and Rosie were on the train back to school, Rosie shared a compartment on with Luna and Romulus.  Luna airily described her holiday, which mostly consisted of a painting that she was just starting to sketch out, for the ceiling of her room.  Romulus was, of course, silent, and he spent the trip watching the passage of the landscape or reading one of his books.

****

The first week of January passed by in a blur, as the students scrambled to get back to the structure of their class schedules.  Many of the students still seemed to be in holiday-mode, and the prospect of having to wake up early, or having to do homework was too drastic a change from spending the holidays lazing about.  Of course, the Ravenclaws were better prepared than most of the other Houses - in fact, many of them had spent the holidays doing extra studying, which meant that the other Houses spent much of the first week, grumbling about swots who tried too hard.

****

Preoccupation with classes meant that for the first few weeks of January, the hex war had been largely forgotten.  Certainly, there were some students who were eager to get it started back again, but most of the other students preferred to try and stay out of trouble.  It was Hogwarts - trouble would likely come soon enough, whether the students sought it out or not.

****

Rosie was extremely grateful to be able to throw herself into her studies, and on top of her regular school work, she also continued her lessons in healing magic, and her training sessions with Romulus.  Her preoccupation with school meant that when Toby threw his arm around her shoulder one day, and asked her how her holidays were, it threw her completely off guard.  How had she managed to forget Toby?

****

  “Oh!  Hi - erm - Tobs,” she said, trying to force herself not to wiggle away from him.  “The hols were great.  How about you?”

****

 “Mm - quite well, thank you for asking, little one,” he replied in his honey-smooth voice.  “Did you get everything you hoped for, for Christmas?”

****

 “Well, I didn’t really have anything specific in mind that I wanted.  It was nice to see family and friends.  I’m sure you know how nice it is to be surrounded by  _ genuine _ people who like you, don’t you, Tobs?” Rosie asked sweetly.

****

  “Of course, little one.  You’d be surprised, how deep people’s feelings can run when it comes to me,” Toby replied.

****

  “Ah - but there’s a wide difference between deep positive feelings, and deep negative ones.  Not to mention that it’s nice to be able to be  _ yourself _ around certain people.”

****

 “But what is the ‘self’ anyway, little one?  It’s not something tangible that one can hold.  It’s not something that magic can get a hold of, and isolate, so that we Ravenclaws can study it in great detail.  I’m sure you’ve noticed that even the most steadfast souls aren’t always consistent in their behaviour,” Toby responded.

****

 “And yet, what of the behaviour that flows naturally from a person without thought?  What about those actions that make us feel like we are being true to what we are meant to be?” Rosie challenged.

****

 “A person can be more than one thing.  Hm,  I just remembered - since you seem so fascinated with curses last month, I visited one of my relatives who happens to be a curse-specialist.  We had quite the interesting conversation.  I’d be glad to tell you all about it.  Oh!  Christopher is waving to me.  I guess he wants to talk.  Talk to you later, Sweet Rose!”  Toby gave her a mocking smile as he joined his friends, and Rosie found herself wanting to call him back, and at the same time, relieved that he was gone.  What could he have found out from his curse-specialist relative?  She silently cursed Toby and his double-edged ways.  It was interesting how Toby no longer scared her the same way he used to.  He still made her uncomfortable, and she knew that he could still easily do her harm - all he had to do was show a hint of dislike towards her, and a majority of the Ravenclaws would turn against her.  And yet, perhaps because she was starting to better navigate them game that they played, she felt more sure of her footing.  However, Rosie wasn’t too certain whether that was a good thing or a bad thing.  It wasn’t exactly a game she was willingly playing.

****

The holidays seemed to have left Rosie more careless than she realized.  It was the second week of classes and she was on her way to the Come and Go room to meet up with Romulus for a training session.  Her mind was distracted, thinking about her healing lessons.  Most of what she was doing was still observation and theory work, but she was also learning to better interpret the basic diagnostic charm.  She was growing accustomed to being able to temporarily sense the emotions of others, and she had helped Madam Pomfrey to deal with a number of homesick students in the first week.  Without always consciously being aware of it, she would sometimes reach out her magic towards the student’s emotions, and for some reason, if she wanted it badly enough, she could often sooth their unhappiness.  Last week, her own homesickness made her very sympathetic to other students who were homesick.  As a result she found her magic reaching out more often than not.  However, she did wonder if the soothing effect she had on the patients was all in her imagination.

****

Her immersion in her own thoughts meant that she didn’t have time to dodge when the red beam of light from the stunning spell hit her as she was climbing a staircase.  Of course, she did catch a brief glance of it in her peripheral vision, but despite her instinctive reflexes to flinch away, she was too late.  Her last conscious thought was a sense that she was glad she had been climbing up the stairs and not down.

****

  “ _ Rennervate _ ,” a familiar voice said, Rosie felt her consciousness returning.  She opened her eyes only to find the third-years Marietta Edgecome and Sarah Kempston looking down at her with cold and slightly manic smiles.  Both had their wands pointed at her, but Rosie was bound up with ropes.  There was no wiggle room, and when she shifted, the ropes dug into her skin.  It seemed the girls had decided to use the  _ Incarcerous  _ spell to prevent her from escaping.  She didn’t know what the girls had planned, and was feeling a bit sick, both from the stunner, and also from anxiety.

****

She was alone with the two girls in a nondescript corridor.  There were no portraits in sight along this length of wall.  Marietta and Sarah were Ravenclaws - they were hardly so stupid as to do whatever they were doing in plain sight.  Rosie was sitting on the stone floor, her back propped against the wall.  She kept squirming, but she was as tightly bound as an Egyptian mummy.  The hardness of the stone floor and wall felt uncomfortable against her back, but she was more aware of the ache along the side of her arm and face when she had fallen on the stairs.  It seemed like she probably only had bruises.  Anything broken would surely feel much more painful.

****

  “Looks like the little firstie is starting to realize her situation,” Marietta said, with toothy smile that didn’t reach her eyes.  Even with the vindictive gleam in her eyes, Marietta was an incredibly pretty girl.  With her reddish-blonde mane of curly hair, she looked almost like some pagan goddess of flame and fury.  Why would someone like Marietta even stoop to doing something like this?  Rosie couldn’t help but think that Marietta could likely have any boy she wanted, so why did she care so much about Toby?  Toby hardly seemed to pay her much attention, beyond his normal fake-nice smiles.  The thoughts did little to calm her own uneasiness.

****

 “Keep struggling, firstie,” the brunette Sarah sneered.  “You’re not going anywhere.  Besides, it’s nice to see you squirm like the little worm that you are.”  Rosie noticed that Cho wasn’t anywhere in sight.  Was the girl keeping guard for her friends?  Or did she take no part in this at all?  Rosie knew that Marietta, Sarah, and Cho usually hung out together, but while Marietta and Sarah bonded over their obsession with Toby, Cho was more enamoured with the popular Cedric in Hufflepuff.  Personally, Rosie thought that Cedric made a lot more sense.  At least Cedric seemed genuine.

****

 “How long have I been out?” Rosie asked.  What she really wanted to know was whether anyone would have noticed her absence.  She was supposed to be meeting Romulus in the Come and Go Room.  If she didn’t show up, would he try and find her?  She didn’t want to think too hard about being trapped alone with Marietta and Sarah.  In her state of helplessness, the fear would quickly overwhelm her, if she failed to maintain calmness.

****

 “Hrrmph.  No one’s going to come looking for you anytime soon, if that’s what you’re asking,” Marietta informed her, her eyes glittering triumphantly.  “We’re going to make you regret your stupid little attention-getting act with Toby.”

****

 “We’ve been practicing our spells, just for you,” Sarah added maliciously.  “But as a Ravenclaw, I’m sure you know that something like the  _ Incarcerous  _ spell is a NEWT level spell.” 

****

If Rosie hadn’t been so nervous, she would have been tempted to roll her eyes.  The pair of girls had her tightly bound, and were heavily implying that they meant to do her harm.  Despite that, they still felt the need to brag about their intellectual prowess?  Obvious, they were true Ravenclaws to the core.

****

 “I don’t want Toby’s attention,” Rosie said, trying to keep her voice calm.  She wasn’t sure if she could talk her way out of this, but the best way to deal with Ravenclaws was with cold and hard logic.  If Rosie could somehow make the pair of them see reason, then perhaps she could get out of the bind she was in.  They were Eagles - they wouldn’t go so far as to do something that could cause them to be expelled, could they?  Rosie hoped not.

****

 “I’m sure you two remember how Toby made fun of my friend Luna.  I was just trying to get Toby to convince the other Ravenclaws to leave Luna alone.  I don’t even like Toby!  Why would I want his attention?” Rosie tried to keep her voice low and soothing.

****

 “Do you think we’re stupid?” Sarah asked, her voice rising slightly.  “You used to call him Woodbridge.  What happened to that?  Now he’s Toby or - whatever disgusting nickname you call him.  Who do you think you are, using his given name?”

****

 “Not to mention that we always see you talking to him,” Marietta added with frosty anger.

****

 “I don’t - well, Toby talks to me.  I don’t seek him out,” Rosie replied.  Sarah’s rising voice made her palms sweat.  She hated being so helpless.

****

 “Toby would never seek out a stupid firstie like you!” Sarah exclaimed, her voice almost reaching the point where it would be called shrill.

****

 “I -” Before Rosie could even defend herself, and tell her that Toby was just toying around with her, Sarah uttered the stinging hex, and Rosie felt a burning heat in her shoulder.  Caught unaware, she cried out in surprise, but then gritted her teeth against the pain.  She could feel the area starting to swell.

****

 ‘It’s just a stinging hex,’ she thought to herself.  ‘Just a stinging hex.  I can handle stinging hexes.’

****

Sarah’s expression was still angry, and her wand hand trembled slightly, but Marietta was wearing a cruel smile.

****

 “Look, Toby doesn’t -” Rosie started.

****

 “Shut up!” Marietta said coldly.  “Don’t talk to me about Toby.  You don’t even deserve to be in the same House as someone like him.”  This time it was Marietta who cast a hex, straight in the middle of her chest.  She recognized the incantation - it was the burning boil hex, and Rosie felt boils breaking out under her skin.  As the rising lumps pressed against the ropes, they popped and burned with a fiery intensity.  Her chest felt sticky and hot from the horrible boils.  The ropes seemed to exacerbate the negative effects, and she felt her skin swelling.  Rosie didn’t realize that she was whimpering, and she could feel a trail of wet tears down the side of her face.  Her body wanted to tense up from the pain, but every shift caused the open boils to grind against the fabric of her robes and the coiling ropes.  Both Marietta and Sarah were watching her with undisguised interest.

****

  “I always wanted to try that one,” Marietta murmured.  She appeared to be fascinated by Rosie’s pain, watching her face as though she did not want to miss a moment of Rosie’s agony.  Sarah’s smirked, but with a touch of bitterness.

****

Despite the scalding sensation, Rosie forced herself to speak.  “If - if this is just about Toby, I’d be happy to leave him alone.  In fact -ugh -” she shuddered in pain.   “I’ll never speak to him again.  Just - let me go -”

****

Marietta smiled, but the expression was disturbingly ghoulish.  “Oh, we’re not worried about that.  Once we’re through with you, Toby won’t even want to speak to you.”

****

 “We’ll show him just how worthless and stupid you really are,” Sarah said, her voice acerbic.  She seemed to lack Marietta’s maniacal malice, and instead she acted with unconcealed enmity and resentment.  She cast another stinging hex, right where Marietta had hit her with the burning boil hex.  Rosie cried out and doubled over as the burning pain spread all through her torso.  The heat even radiated out to her limbs, and she trembled.  She was no longer propped against the wall, but had toppled and was now lying her side.  Tears flowed freely from her eyes and she clenched her teeth until her jaw ached.  She was afraid - afraid of how far these two girls would go.  They hated her - but they wouldn’t do anything that would get themselves expelled.  At least, that’s what Rosie tried to repeat to herself.  ‘They’re Ravenclaws.  Ravenclaws.’  The mantra reminded her that Ravenclaws valued their education above all.

****

 “How - how do you plan to get away with this?” Rosie asked, but it came out as a series of broken gasps, as the wet swelling skin pressed tightly against the ropes.  Her entire body felt as taut as a harp string, but nothing she did could brace herself from the pain.  

****

 “You’ll let us get away with it,” Marietta told her, twirling her wand casually in her hand to give Rosie a sense of her composure. “After all, I’m sure you don’t want anything to happen to your little Loony friend, would you?  She has a habit of wandering around the school grounds on her own, doesn’t she, Sarah?”

****

 “I’m almost tempted to say that Loony’s even stupider than this firstie,” Sarah said, and even though it was unladylike and undignified, Sarah pulled back her leg and then kicked Rosie in the stomach.  After all, the only witness was Marietta, and Marietta would never tell.  Rosie opened her mouth to cry out, but the wind had been knocked from her and it sounded more like a gasping groan. She felt as though the kick had shredded her skin as more of the boils ruptured and flamed.  Within her, was a deeper ache from the bruising of her organs.  She was mewling like a baby, unable to maintain any dignity in the face of her agony.  The pain was a mix of bright whiteness and then blackness behind her closed eyelids.  She felt as though she were flickering in and out of consciousness.  Her breaths were ragged - she was covered in a sheen of sweat.  ‘Please, someone help me,’ she thought.  ‘Please.’

****

 “Heh - that was more fun than I thought,” Sarah smirked.  Marietta looked at her friend appraisingly.

****

“What?” Sarah said defensively, noticing Marietta’s look.  “It was!  It was - satisfying.  It’s not like we have to do everything with magic, you know?”

****

 “Hm - well, I prefer my magic, thank you.  I think it’s a bit more refined,” Marietta sniffed.  “We’re not boys or -” Marietta’s face screwed up in disgust “muggles.  We have magic for a reason Sarah.”

****

 “Muggles aren’t that bad,” Sarah replied with whining resentment.  “My mother is a muggle.  You’ve met her!  You said you thought she was nice.”

****

 “Yes, yes, your mother was perfectly alright.  But that doesn’t mean that other muggles are,” Marietta replied.  Marietta looked down at Rosie.  “Look at her.  A couple of stinging jinxes, and a boil hex and she can’t even take anymore.  How pathetic.”  She spat out the last word, speaking the consonants in a sharp staccato.  

****

Sarah snorted in agreement.  She bent down over the girl, and said an unfamiliar charm that Rosie didn’t recognize.  A whimper of fear escaped Rosie’s lips, and she tried to pull away.  Sarah grabbed a fistful of her hair roughly and held her in place.  Rosie’s eyes strained and widened, as she tried to see what the girls intended to do.  Sarah seemed pleased by her fear and began to wave her wand over Rosie’s face, while giggling spitefully.  Whatever Sarah was doing seemed to amuse Marietta as well.

****

 “Put a charm on it so she can’t remove it!” Marietta was saying.  Sarah giggled again, and said another charm, waving her wand over Rosie’s face.  Though Rosie’s heart was still racing, she was embarrassingly relieved that they had caused her no more pain.

****

 “And as a final touch,  _ Mimblewimble, _ ” said Marietta.  “Now you won’t even be able to speak.  Ugh - I can spell the pus from the boils.  Disgusting.  Come on, Sarah, let’s go.  Let’s see how long before anyone even finds her here.”  The pair of girls laughed, and then left together, both feeling extremely self-satisfied.  It was a while before Rosie could no longer feel her heart racing, but that didn’t stop the hot tears that fell from her eyes, nor her ragged, broken breaths.

****

It felt like an indeterminable wait, but eventually, Romulus found her.  His expression almost seemed frantic as he came upon her, but Rosie decided she was imagining things in her pained state.  Romulus was so stoic - she couldn’t envision him being emotional over anything (except maybe pride over potions accomplishments).  He cursed softly, when he saw the state she was in, and his eyes flashed with cold rage.  Using  _ diffindo _ , the severing charm, he cut away the ropes, and a shudder ran through Rosie’s body as the the air hit the moist pus of the boils.  Despite the murderous intent that showed on his face, his hand was gentle as he wiped away her tears with the edge of his robe.  He asked who had attacked her and she tried to speak and explain what had happened. But as soon as she opened her mouth, her tongue curled backwards and the words failed to come.  

****

Realizing that she was unable to talk, Romulus grimaced.  It seemed he would have to take her to the infirmary.  He reached his arms under her to lift her up.  He moved with cautious care - he could smell the cursed boils on her skin, as well as the scent of pain and fear.  Yet for all his gentleness, the feeling of the robes pulling and rubbing against her broken, swollen skin caused a pitiful mewl to escape her lips. Even the tongue-tying curse couldn’t hold back her cries.  A fresh trail of tears that streamed down her face.  Aghast by the pain he caused her, Romulus attempted to set her back down.

****

  “I’m sorry!” he exclaimed, looking as though her plight were entirely his fault.  She had never seen Romulus look so upset.  She shook her head, and looked up at him, through red, pleading eyes.  Romulus nodded in silent understanding and kept his gait gentle and even so as to not jar her, and brought her to the infirmary.

****

  “Mr. Lupin?” Madam Pomfrey said.  “Who have you brought - Oh dear - Miss Potter?  Set her down, right there.”  The matron directed Romulus towards the closest bed.  Romulus laid her down, but instead of pulling away, he rested a protective hand on her shoulder.

****

 “What happened?” the madam asked, her eyes wide with alarm, and she whatever she saw on Rosie’s face caused her to scowl with anger.

****

 “I found her like this,” Romulus replied.  “She had also been bound up by ropes, but I removed them.”  He wasn’t about to explain that he found her by following her scent, though in truth, all of the staff were aware that he was a werewolf.  He had a good idea of who the culprits were, even though he could not get a confirmation from Rosie.  He could smell Sarah and Marietta’s scent in the area, and it was obvious that the two girls hated Rosie.  Nonetheless, he wasn’t about to reveal this.  He would wait until Rosie could speak first, and leave it to her to decide.  His concern for his friend ran deep but he still instinctively wanted to avoid being caught in the conflict of others.  Especially since Toby knew his secret.  He did find himself wondering if he could get away with cursing Marietta and Sarah in secret.  They more than deserved it.  At the moment, the most important thing was to make sure Rosie was well and safe.

****

 “Miss Potter?” Madam Pomfrey said as she stood over her young pre-apprentice.  Rosie opened her mouth, but once again, could not speak.  Pursing her lips to refrain from cursing the culprits who had done this to one of the students, Madam Pomfrey cast a quick diagnosis charm.  Her eyes narrowed as she realized what had happened.  She uttered the spell to remove the boils, and quickly went to grab the appropriate potions and balms.  Madam Pomfrey handed Rosie a phial, which Rosie quickly gulped down, and the pain quickly subsided.  

****

 “The tongue-tying curse will wear off on it’s own soon enough, dear,” the matron said gently.  “As for - that - on your face -” the matron pursed her lips again, her eyes glittering angrily.  “We’ll have to find a way to remove that quickly.”  Madam Pomfrey waved her wand at the mark and muttered a charm, and then frowned.  “Hm - even glamour charms won’t cover it it.  Well, in the meantime, some bed rest will do you good.  I’ll pull up the privacy curtains for you.”

****

Now that the pain was gone, and her heart no longer racing, Rosie couldn't help but wonder what had been done to her face that that caused such a reaction.  Whatever it was, it hadn’t hurt, thank Merlin.  But it seemed to amuse Marietta and Sarah greatly.  Had they done something to make her ugly?  Or had they somehow marked up her face? 

****

Romulus, who had remained with her in the infirmary was standing by her bed, still resting a hand on her shoulder.  He hadn’t said much since he brought her here, and did not look like he planned to say anything more.  Rosie gave him a nod in thanks, and he nodded back.  She could see the worry in his eyes, and she smiled weakly.  However, there was no reason for him to stay here with her.  She glanced towards the exit of the infirmary, and tried to gesture with her hands that he could go.  There was an odd, conflicted look in his eyes.  However, he seemed to understand, and pulled away with what almost looked like reluctance. 

****

As Rosie sat on the hospital bed with nothing to do, she found herself wishing that she had her bookbag with her.  She usually didn’t bring it with her to her training sessions with Romulus, and now, she found herself stuck with nothing to do.  She didn’t exactly want to think about what Marietta and Sarah had done to her.  It had frightened her, but it also made her angry with herself for failing to be vigilant.  The whole point of Romulus’s training sessions was to ensure that she stayed sharp and on her guard.

****

Rosie also found herself feeling angry with Toby.  While it had been Marietta and Sarah who had attacked her, she knew that their motivation to do so stemmed from Toby’s behaviour.  Of course, when she confronted Toby in the first place, she knew that she was bringing this sort of thing upon herself.  It just irritated her that Toby seemed to encourage antagonism, even if he did not do it explicitly.  Toby seemed to treat all the Ravenclaws as though they were his personal Wizard’s chess pieces, except that instead of playing to win, he played to cause as much chaos and damage on the board as possible.

****

Madam Pomfrey seemed to realize that Rosie was probably bored, because she quickly came by with a stack of books for Rosie to read.  She set the books on an end table by the side of the bed.

****

 “I can see that you’re wide awake, Miss Potter, and the physical damage that was done to you was hardly severe enough to warrant a long stay here in the infirmary.  Still - it’s best you remain here until I can find a way to remove those words on your face.   Until I can be sure which charm was used, it’s best to leave it, lest I make it worse.  When you feel the tongue-tying curse wearing off, give me a call.  I’ll be in my office.”  Madam Pomfrey gave Rosie a reassuring pat on her hand.  Rosie nodded in appreciation, and the matron smiled gently before pulling the curtain aside and wandering off.

****

 ‘Words on my face?’ Rosie thought to herself.  It was probably some sort of insult.  Rosie lifted up a hand, and touched her cheek and forehead, but felt nothing there.  She scowled, wishing she had a mirror so she could see what the girls had wrote.  It suddenly made sense, why the matron would pull up a privacy curtain for her - the words were probably either offensive, or personally humiliating.  

****

Rosie grabbed the stack of books and set them on her lap, looking over the titles.  It was a rather interesting selection of medical books, and of all of them, she had only read one.  In the end, she decided to read one of the more theoretical titles.  It was a book called  _ Modern Understandings of Interaction of Magic and the Human Body _ . 

****

As she looked over the table of contents, she noticed that the book addressed some of the very complex concepts that were still beyond Rosie’s understanding.  However, as soon as she read the introduction, she was soon engrossed in the book.  The book addressed notions that skirted both the philosophy, spirituality and and the underlying basis of magic.

****

_ What is Magic?  _  The book’s introduction asked.   _ How is it that some creatures have it and some none?  What allows some objects to retain magical properties, while other objects are simply ordinary?  Why, if magic can impact all matter, is not more prevalent in the world?  And what is the impact of magic upon the human body?  This books seeks to explicate on some of these fascinating concepts, in hopes that the reader might gain a deeper insight into the very nature of magic itself.   _

****

_ Magic is generally understood to be a natural phenomenon which at it’s heart, is a type of energy.  It is an energy which can be channelled by those who have the biological make-up which enables this type of energy to exist in the very cellular structure of certain organisms.  It is also an energy that biological beings can imbue into inorganic objects.  The question is, do magical beings create this energy within themselves, or do they somehow absorb it externally?   _

****

_ The most long-standing theories state that magic is itself, created in magical beings.  Non-magical organisms absorb energy through other sources - sunlight or food - and convert this into usable energy for them to survive.  Magical organisms may use the same initial sources of energy, but their cells are somehow more efficient, and not only can the create energy such as mechanical or thermal energy, but they are also able to create magical energy as well.  This magical energy is stored within their body, until it is willed through one’s intent to fulfill a particular purpose.  The more powerful the witch or wizard, the more efficient their cells are, and the more magical energy they are able to store within their bodies. _

****

_ All this leads to some interesting interactions between the magic within one’s body, and the magic from the external world, which may seek to either aid or harm the organism.  Cause-and-effect relationships, which may be very straightforward in a non-magical situation suddenly become extremely complicated once magic enters the equation.  The human body itself is already highly complex, and with the addition of magic, the complexity increases exponentially.  And yet, one of the most fascinating attributes of magic is it’s relative simplicity of use: magic acts on the strength of will of the user.  Though the very foundations of magical interactions may be challenging to understand, the application of magic itself for magical beings is as natural as learning to walk or speak.  It may take longer for one’s magical faculties to mature enough to be easy to use, and yet, for magical beings, this process is on some level, innate. _

****

Rosie was interrupted from her reading as Madam Pomfrey peeked through the privacy curtains.

****

 “Has the tongue-tying curse worn off yet, Miss Potter?  Ah, you’re reading about magical interactions with the human body?  That’s a particularly enlightening book.  I remember when I first read it, I could hardly put it down.  It was so long ago.”  Madam Pomfrey smiled sentimentally.

****

Rosie opened her mouth and attempted to respond to the matron.  “I-i-it’s in-n-teres-s-ting.”  She was finally able to get some sound out, but her tongue seemed to trip over the words.  It was as though her thoughts raced far too ahead of her mouth, and she couldn’t seem to articulate anything clearly.  Rosie pursed her lips in annoyance.

****

 “Don’t worry, Miss Potter.  That’s perfectly normal.  I’m glad to see that you’re starting to be able to speak.  In fact, there might well be a potion that may help your tongue to relax and move more easily.  I’ll have to ask Professor Snape to see if he has any in his personal cupboard.  We don’t often have the need for it, and unfortunately, it doesn’t seem to keep very well, even under stasis spells.”

****

The matron ambled off, presumably to call Professor Snape.  Rosie found herself flexing and wiggling her tongue, and it did in fact feel strangely stiff and awkward.  She was about to start reading again when Madam Pomfrey returned with Professor Snape in tow.

****

 “Pr-pr-profes-”

****

 “No need to strain yourself, Miss Potter,” Professor Snape informed her.  His eyes seemed to be immediately drawn to whatever was on her face, and his eyes narrowed.  There was a dangerous glitter in his eyes, and Rosie felt a chill run down her spine.

****

 “Who did this?” Professor Snape asked Madam Pomfrey, his voice soft and menacing.

****

 “Unfortunately I haven’t a clue,” the matron replied matter-of-factly, not at all bothered by Snape’s dark disposition.  “Miss Potter was hit by the tongue-tying curse, as I told you.  And Mr. Lupin who brought her in only told me that he found her in a corridor.” 

****

Professor Snape grimaced.  “Five drops of the draught should do.”  He pulled a small dark phial from out of his robe pockets and handed it to Madam Pomfrey, who administered the potion to Rosie.  The potion was much milder tasting than most, and before long, her tongue no longer felt as stiff.

****

 “Better, Miss Potter?” the matron asked.

****

 “I - I think so,” Rosie replied.  It felt a bit more effortful to be able to articulate clearly, but it was a significant improvement from before.

****

 “Now, can you tell us who did this to you?” Madam Pomfrey asked.  Rosie bit her lower lip guiltily and shook her head.

****

 “I’m sorry - I can’t,” she replied, staring down at the books on her lap rather than meeting the matron’s eyes.

****

 “And whyever not?” Professor Snape asked, and when Rosie peeked up at him, he seemed to loom over her.  Though she usually met his gaze, this time, she quickly looked away.  She did not want Marietta or Sarah to do anything to harm Luna.  Rosie had at least been training regularly, and the only reason she was this badly attacked was because she had failed to pay attention.  Luna was intelligent and perceptive, but at the same time, she was also more vulnerable.  It wasn’t that Rosie worried that Luna was weak.  It was simply that Luna had a greater sensitivity, and girls like Marietta and Sarah would surely exploit and try and destroy that part of Luna.  Rosie knew she could never let that happen.

****

She forced herself to look up and meet Professor Snape’s black eyes.  “I just can’t.”

****

Snape’s frown deepened.  He recognized the stubborn set of her jaw.  After all, he had seen the same expression on Lily’s face more times than he could count.  There would be no arguing with her.

****

Madam Pomfrey tutted.  “I do hope you change your mind, child.  If you ever need to talk, you know you can always speak to me, don’t you?”  The matron waited for Rosie’s nod before continuing.  “Now, do you remember what spells they used on your face?

****

Rosie furrowed her brows as she tried to recall.  She told them an approximation of what it had sounded like.

****

 “Are you quite sure?” Madam Pomfrey asked.  “At least one of those charms is a charm that prevents removal of the other charm, and tampering with that type of charm often backfires, causing it to last even longer than it originally was spelled to.”

****

 “I’m pretty sure,” Rosie replied.  “But I was also mostly concentrating on trying to endure the - erm - discomfort.”

****

 “The discomfort - you mean the pain of the boil and stinging hexes?” the matron asked.

****

Rosie nodded and flushed.  It was embarrassing to admit to.  She had cried like a helpless baby.  “It was worse because it - uh - was rubbing against the ropes that they had tied me up with.”

****

Professor Snape’s expression was extremely dark.  The air around him almost felt as though it were crackling, and Rosie was reminded of thunderstorms.  Though Madam Pomfrey had given him a rough summary of what had happened, it was still upsetting hearing it directly from Rosie’s lips.  He himself had been bullied badly at school, but during his time Lily Potter had been popular and well-liked.  It seemed as though this wasn’t the case for the young Rosie Potter.

****

Madam Pomfrey turned to Professor Snape.  “Well, Professor?  Do you think you’ll be able to remove it?”

****

 “I believe I can have a potion that can remove the marks by tomorrow evening.  The second charm only prevents the marks from being removed externally, but a potion would work internally.”  Despite his roiling anger, Professor Snape’s voice was calm.

****

 “Excellent!” the matron exclaimed before turning to Rosie.  “You can stay here until then, Miss Potter.  One of your classmates can bring you your homework.”

****

 “Thank you,” Rosie replied.  Professor Snape nodded to her before he and the matron left. 

****

Rosie returned to her book but only managed to read a couple paragraphs before Luna slipped past the privacy curtains.

****

 “Hi Rosie,” Luna said.  “Romulus told me you were here.  I brought your schoolbag, and your homework.”

****

  “Rom told you?” Rosie said with surprise.  She grabbed her school as Luna handed it to her. “Thanks.”

****

 “Yes, I was rather surprised myself.  I had been trying to have a conversation with a Birshmoop but he scared them all away.  He looked really upset.  It’s rare for him to show it.  Are you alright?”  Rosie had been clearing the books off her bed, and setting them on the small table as Luna spoke.  Once she had cleared a space, Luna sat on the bed.

****

 “Yeah - Rom really doesn’t show his feelings does he?  Well, I’m better now.  They used a tongue-tying curse on me, and I couldn’t speak for a while.  Professor Snape had to get me a potion because once I did start to speak, I was stuttering really badly.”  Rosie explained a bit more of what had happened, and Luna nodded sympathetically.  She didn’t reveal who had attacked her, but she had a feeling that Luna would know.  

****

Luna kept her company through the late afternoon and early evening, and they did their homework together.  Her friend also brought her the newest edition of  _ The Quibbler _ .

****

 “There’s an interesting article on an ancient runic configuration that allows you to see multiple locations at once, as long as you leave the runic mark at those locations,” Luna was telling her.  Both Luna and Rosie found runes to be interesting, but Luna had far greater understanding of them.  “I’ve been trying it myself to see if I can finally get a sighting of the Blibbering Humdinger.  Unfortunately, the runes don’t seem to work within the castle.  They were designed to be used outdoors, to monitor vast territories from intrusions, and also for hunting.”

****

Rosie listened with interest.  If the runic configuration could be made to work in the castle, it would be incredibly useful.  On the other hand, she could see how it would be dangerous.  You would never know who was potentially watching you.

****

 “The runes do seem to work under the lake though,” Luna continued.  “It’s quite remarkable, what you can see down there.  When you’re allowed to leave here, I’ll show you.”

****

After Luna left, Rosie found herself wishing she had the invisibility cloak.  Being trapped in the hospital wing for an entire day and night was incredibly boring.  She resolved that once she could leave, she would keep the cloak inside her bookbag, rather than shut away inside her trunk.

****  
  



	20. Chapter 20

The following day was about as boring as the previous one.  Madam Pomfrey allowed Rosie to use her office to study.  She was also given a wider space behind the privacy curtains to do some physical exercises.  Unfortunately, she had no access to a mirror at all.  She really wanted to know what was on her face that was offensive enough that she was kept hidden away.  Both Luna and Romulus had been disinclined to tell her, and she knew she wouldn’t get a word out of Madam Pomfrey.  

****

However, Rosie did discover one interesting thing that day.  While she and Madam Pomfrey were having a conversation about the Christmas break, Rosie had proudly showed the matron the bracelet that Harry had given her.  The bracelet consisted of seven shiny oval stones that had a bluish-milky colour on a golden chain.  The matron had been surprisingly impressed.

****

 “Where did your brother find such a thing?” Madam Pomfrey asked in surprise.  “These are incredibly rare!”

****

 “Really?  Harry told me that it can enhance healing magic.”

****

 “More than that, dear.  These stones can actually be infused and charged with magic.  The charge on them seems to be fairly weak at the moment.  The magical energy can then be used alongside healing spells to increase their effectiveness.  If the charge is high enough, it can also be used to strengthen your patient’s magic so that their own body recovers faster.  It’s unusual for such an item to be sold anywhere.  Often, they are heirlooms that are passed down from generation to generation.”  The matron smiled wistfully as she admired the bracelet. 

****

 “How do I infuse the bracelet with magic?” Rosie asked, looking at the bracelet with new eyes.

****

 “It’s not difficult, but since I’ve never owned one, I wouldn’t be able to tell you.  There is a book on it in the library.  It’s not specifically about healing stones, but it’s about stones and gems that can be charged to hold and release magic.  You can ask Madam Pince to help you find it - I don’t know the title.”  Rosie thanked Madam Pomfrey for the information, and resolved to find the book once she was allowed to leave the infirmary.

****

In the afternoon, Luna visited again to tell her what she had missed in class.  She also stayed and worked on more assignments with her friend, with their books sprawled out across the hospital bed.  After Luna left, Rosie had returned to reading the book on magical interactions with the human body when she was interrupted by an unexpected visitor.  She had looked up from her book, expecting to see Madam Pomfrey or even Professor Snape, and was instead greeted by Toby’s friend, Samir Kapoor.  Samir gave her a small smile.

****

Samir had light golden brown skin, and black hair.  He also had the thickest and longest eyelashes she had ever seen on a boy, and had heard more than one girl sigh about it with envy.  Rosie tried to keep the confusion from showing on her face.  Samir was the last person she would have expected to see.  Of the Triad of Brilliance, Samir had always seemed like the nicest, but aside from the occasional looks of sympathy that he gave her, he had never spoken to her before.

****

 “Hello, Rosie,” Samir said softly.  Rosie didn’t even realize that Samir knew her name.  Toby always called her by irritating pet names.

****

 “Hi Samir.  What are you doing here?”  Rosie wondered if Toby had sent him.  It seemed like something that Toby wouldn’t do - she couldn’t imagine Toby showing any genuine concern.  However, perhaps Toby had other motives.

****

 “I heard that something had happened to you.”  Samir’s gaze flicked quickly to the side of her face before returning to her eyes.

****

 “From Toby?”

****

Samir gave a quick shake of his head.  “No.  I heard Marietta and Sarah bragging about it.”  Samir didn’t look particularly pleased about this.  If anything, his expression seemed troubled.  Samir had a particularly expressive face, and unlike Toby, there wasn’t any element of mockery.  Rosie found herself wondering how the two boys came to be friends.

****

 “I wanted to make sure you were alright.  And - I wanted to explain a few things,” Samir continued. 

****

 “Like what?” Rosie asked curiously.  Was he here to justify Toby’s behaviour?  She couldn’t imagine anything that Samir could say that would make her more kindly disposed towards Toby. 

****

 “First, I wanted to warn you.  About Toby.”

****

Rosie frowned.  “I know Toby just sees this as a big game.  I’m not going to be fooled by him.”

****

Samir’s chocolate brown eyes seem to glow with earnestness.  “It’s not that -” Samir sighed, and looked away.  Then under his breath he added, “He’s not going to be happy I told you this.”

****

 “Tell me what?”

****

 “To be honest, Toby’s been playing nice with you.  I don’t mean the game of friendliness that you two have going on.  And I’m not trying to suggest that Toby is usually cruel - well - not overtly anyhow.”  Samir ran his hands through his medium-length hair, which cascaded gracefully through his fingers.  It seemed to be a nervous gesture.  Beyond his eyelashes, Rosie had heard a lot of girls sighing over Samir’s lustrous hair.  “The thing is - Toby is - how shall I say this - when he chooses a target, he like’s to ensure that his dominance is complete.”  Samir looked back at Rosie, as though trying to ascertain whether or not she understood.

****

 “Dominance?  What do you mean by that?”

****

 “I mean, Toby likes to makes sure that people either love him, or fear him.  Ever since I’ve known him, he’s been this way.  He doesn’t always have a lot of respect for people - particularly if he doesn’t respect their intelligence, and it’s almost as if he thinks that entitles him to do what he wants.  He seems to believe that if a person was smart enough, it wouldn’t affect them,” Samir explained.  “With you, all he’s really doing is keeping you a little off balance.”

****

 “Why?”  Rosie couldn’t seem to make sense of it.  Either Toby’s actions, or why Samir was even telling her this.

****

 “Um - well, the thing is, Toby was warned off.  He was told not to take things too far.  But as to why Toby would listen to someone else’s warning, well, I don’t know.  Toby rarely ever listens to anyone, unless he thinks -” Samir cut himself off, and bit his lower lip.  A shadow seemed to have come over his expressive eyes.

****

 “What?”

****

 “Nevermind.  I’m just speculating,” Samir continued after a moment.  “Anyway, I just thought you should know.  Don’t ever assume that you understand Toby.  He - well, I think some childhood experiences made him the way he is.”

****

 “Alright - is that all?  You just wanted to warn me about Toby?”

****

Samir shook his head.  “Actually, there’s something else.  It’s kind of related.  It’s about Marietta.”

****

 “What about her?” Rosie asked, with a chilly tone in her voice.

****

 “You might not believe me, but in a lot of ways Marietta used to be a lot like you.  I mean, you’re quieter than her.  Marietta was, and in a lot of ways still is, quite popular.  I mean, she’s pretty, smart, and a pureblood at that.”  Samir seemed lost in the memory for a moment.  “The other thing is, she used to hate Toby.  At least she did in her first year.  We - Toby, Chris and I - were in second year at the time.  She thought Toby was taking advantage of his position.  Even then, Toby was insanely smart, and in Ravenclaw, that usually translates to being popular.”

****

Samir smiled to himself. “I remember even then, there were fourth, and even fifth years asking Toby for help with their homework.  Toby was pretty smug about it - well, around me and Chris, he was.  With everyone else, he always had his humble act.  But of course the act didn’t fool everyone.  Marietta was one of those people - she kept saying that Toby was a fake.”

****

Rosie raised her eyebrows in surprise.  She couldn’t imagine the obsessive Marietta saying anything like that about Toby.

****

Samir’s lip quirked with amusement.  “Yeah, hard to believe, right? You can see why I would say that the two of you have similarities.”

****

 “What happened?” Rosie asked.

****

 “Well, at first Toby didn’t really care.  First of all, she was just a first year, and second of all, Toby is used to people being jealous of him.  Toby probably would have just left it alone.  Especially if Marietta had just kept it between her and her friends.  But - like you - she ended up confronting him in front of the whole common room.  She didn’t actually call him a fake, like you did.  She was a lot more tactful.  She just said that she didn’t think that people knew the  _ real _ him.  She was right, of course, but it’s one thing to think it, and another thing to say it to Toby’s face.”

****

Samir smiled ruefully.  “Anyway, Toby said that he thought Marietta was being unfair, and that she wasn’t even giving him the chance to show his real self.  The real Toby is - honestly, really intense.  If he’s serious about dominating someone, he’ll go all out.  Not just with what he says - he sets up elaborate traps as well.  He’ll manipulate the ghosts, and sometimes even Peeves into doing what he wants.  I wouldn’t have believed it at first, but I’ve seen him trick Peeves into acting certain ways.  And - well - Toby has certain, special - um - tools at his disposal because of his - uh - connections.”  Rosie looked curious, but Samir was unwilling to elaborate on his statement.  He continued his story.

****

 “Anyway, he’ll find out everything he can about a person, and he doesn’t hesitate to use it against them.  And what’s scarier is that people don’t know that he’s doing it.  He created this situation where he ended up scaring Marietta out of her mind.  He turned a lot of her friends and admirers against her.  Never directly - sometimes he would just create a set-up where people seem to turn against her on their own accord.   Marietta thought she had somehow been cursed - she never once suspected it was Toby.  And somehow, Toby would end up ‘saving’ her - not all the time, of course. Sometimes, he likes to just let people suffer.  The ‘rescues’ always seemed accidental too.  Marietta hated it at first, but Toby ended up convincing her he was on her side.  What was it he said?”

****

Samir pursed his lips and looked up at the ceiling as he tried to recollect the words.  “Oh, it was something like ‘we both know that neither of us likes one another, but I can’t just sit back and let this happen to you.’  Then he went on to make up this story about how he had a childhood friend that had gotten cursed, and ended up in St. Mungo’s - you know, one of those stories where the sole purpose is to create sympathy.” Samir shook his head.  “Toby always told those stories really well - he had a way of pretending as though he didn’t want to reveal it, and then he would turn it into a big heartfelt confession.  It wasn’t exactly a lie though - Toby did actually know a kid who was cursed.  It’s just that - well, this is speculation, but it might have been Toby who cursed him in the first place.  Anyway, anyone who has a heart tends to end up melting when they hear a story like that.  Toby knows it too.  Eventually, Toby won Marietta over.  She became convinced that his demeanour was the result of being heartbroken as a kid, due to having his friend cursed.  Toby doesn’t try to convince people directly.  He lets people convince themselves of things.”

****

Samir sighed.  “And I’m sure you can see the end result.  The people who think they love Toby usually think they are the only ones who know the  _ real  _ him.  And Toby just perpetuates that belief.  And Marietta - well - I think she just thinks she’s protecting Toby somehow.”

****

Rosie felt completely bewildered by Samir’s story.  She could hardly believe that Marietta had ever hated Toby.  “Why are you telling me this?” Rosie asked.

****

Samir shrugged.  “I don’t really know you that well, and I don’t know if you’re planning to get revenge on Marietta and Sarah.”

****

Rosie shook her head.  “I’m not,” she said flatly, though she did feel angry about their actions.

****

 “Well - I just thought you should know Marietta’s history before doing anything you might regret.  And honestly, I don’t think the world needs more people like Marietta and Sarah.  It’s really annoying when Toby does that to people.”

****

 “Annoying?”  Rosie couldn’t believe that Samir would use such a mild adjective to describe Toby’s twisted actions.

****

 “Yeah.  It’s not as though Toby even likes the attention.” Samir shrugged again.  “He just does it because he can.  It doesn’t exactly make Ravenclaw Nest a pleasant place to be.  Anyway - I guess I’ll see you around.”

****

 “Wait!” Rosie called out, as he was turning to leave.  “Erm - could you - well - tell me what’s written on my face?”

****

Samir’s eyes flicked to her forehead and cheek, and he frowned.  “Your friend’s didn’t tell you?”

****

 “No.  No one is telling me.  I’m guessing it’s pretty bad if they won’t even let me leave.”

****

Samir smiled but it looked more like a grimace.  He peeked out the curtain as though he wanted to make sure that no one would overhear.  When he told her, her eyes widened with surprise.

****

 “Wow - I guess I can understand why I’m stuck here.  Well - thanks - I suppose.”

****

Samir nodded, and left.  After hearing what Samir had to say, Rosie couldn’t seem to concentrate on her book, and she was thankful when Madam Pomfrey swept past the privacy curtain with the potion in hand.  After gulping down the sour brew, Rosie’s skin felt as though it was prickling with a strange coldness.  The matron was nodding her head in satisfaction.

****

 “That seems to have done it,” Madam Pomfrey said with a smile.  “Well, I’m sure you’re eager to be off, Miss Potter.”

****

 “Yes!” Rosie exclaimed, unable to hide the relief in her voice.

****

 “I’ll see you on Friday then,” the Matron said, with an indulgent smile.

****

Rosie was cautious when she exited the Hospital Wing.  She had no desire to be the target of Marietta and Sarah again.  However, there were several other students still in the corridors and Rosie knew that the pair of third years wouldn’t attack if others were around.   Rosie was about to head straight back for the Ravenclaw Nest but when the sparkle on her wrist caught her eye, she veered off towards the library instead.  The idea of having a magical bracelet that could be infused with energy was exciting.  She wanted to learn everything she could about it.  After Madam Pince directed her to the appropriate book, Rosie returned to her room.

****

Over the coming days, Rosie started to charge up her bracelet.  As Madam Pomfrey had said, the process was actually quite easy.  She had to visualize her magic as a tidal flow, moving in and out as she breathed.  Everytime she inhaled, she had to visualize the magic flowing into the bracelet.  The milky-blue sheen of the stones would feel slightly cooler than normal if it worked.  While it was indeed simple, it was also time consuming.  The bracelet could only accept small amounts of magic at a time this way.  The book had stated that it was possible to use one’s wand to charge the stones, but it was a brute-force method, and more often than not, it would cause the stones to crack, which would permanently damage them.  Whether the charge of the bracelet was full or not was determined by feel, but this was a subtle thing that had to be learned over time, and the book’s description was vague.

****

As for making use of the bracelet’s magic, that was more of a passive process.  Whether or not the magic in the bracelet enhanced one’s magic depended on the intensity of one’s intent.  So, if a healer desperately wanted to save a life, the bracelet would immediately offer up it’s magic, whereas if a healer were to do a routine spell, the bracelet would retain its charge.

****

The attack by the third years had left Rosie more skittish than usual.  She was tempted to tell Sirius about it when she mirror called him.  However, she knew that if he suggested that she returned back to Grimmauld Place, the temptation would be too strong.  As much as she longed to be safe at home, she didn’t want to leave Harry by himself.  So, she kept the attack to herself, like a jagged blade tossed into a dark lake, unseen but not forgotten.  Instead, she threw herself back into school work with renewed fervour. 

****

By late January, the students had settled down into the routine of school life.  Rosie found that she had more time to think, which meant that her worries about Harry once again came to the forefront.  Harry had seemed more distant than usual, but because of Rosie’s preoccupied state of mind, she had not given it too much thought.  She even forced herself to put the black outs in their link of out her mind.  The black outs seemed so long and so frequent that it if she let it worry her, she would be worried all the time.  Yet, she knew she could not avoid the issue forever.  He was her brother, and she had to do something.

****

Rosie kept feeling as though she was missing something.  She had the impression that the problem was more obvious than she realized, but because she was too close to the problem, she couldn’t seem to see it.  Somehow, she needed to change her perspective.  She needed to step back from the problem and see it with new eyes.

****

  ‘I’m a Ravenclaw!’ she thought to herself.  ‘I should be able to figure this out.’  She found herself wishing that she had taken notes from the time that she first noticed a problem, but there was no sense regretting the past.  Furthermore, most people didn’t usually take notes on their sibling's behaviour - that itself would have been regarded as odd.

****

She had just finished up the last of her homework in the Ravenclaw nest, so, taking out a scrap of parchment, Rosie began to write down the things she could remember in chronological order.  He had behaved normally in the summer and in early September.  By late September, she had started noticing changes in his behaviour, and that was also the same time she first noticed a darkness in their link.  Then, after October, his behaviour drastically changed.  That was when she started noticing black outs, but Harry had also seemed happier and more outgoing.  She vaguely remembered that his positive demeanour had led her to set aside her worries.  As time passed, the black outs became more frequent.

****

 ‘What else has changed?’ she asked herself.  Harry had mentioned something about erratic sleep patterns, but Harry had always had random sleep patterns.  Perhaps she should have asked him if his sleep patterns had changed since the first year of school.  Just because he had a tendency to take naps back when he was living in Grimmauld Place, it didn’t mean that he had continued the habit in his first year at Hogwarts.

****

The other thing was that Harry had become much more social, and more charismatic.  Harry was her brother, and she had always seen him in a positive light.  She knew most of his strengths, and tended to be blind to most of his faults, unless it was something that personally bothered her.  But just because she always saw the best in Harry, it didn’t mean that anyone else saw him the same way.  When she had asked Hermione and Neville about it, they seemed to shrug off Harry’s actions, but she had asked them back in the fall.  She resolved to speak to the pair of them again, sometime soon.  The last few times she went down to the library, she hadn’t seen Harry, so she had been doing a lot of her homework in the Ravenclaw Nest with Romulus instead.  If Harry wasn’t in the library, where was he? 

****

The most striking thing of all was her encounters with him during the black outs in their link. Most of the time, she would only see him briefly, and he would give her a smile.  That seemed perfectly normal.  But there was also the time she saw him talking to someone that looked a lot like Toby.  There was also that brief flash during the diagnosis spell, and over Christmas, when she had given him Sephtis.  And then there was the very strange encounter in the corridor where he had overwhelmed her with his intense gaze.  On paper, the exchange hadn’t seemed that strange - they had just said a few pleasantries.  It was how the experience had made her feel that was truly odd.  But if it had just been her feelings, couldn’t it have all been in her head?

****

And finally, there was the matter of the curse.  Just what did the curse do?  How was the curse affecting him?  What was ‘Harry’ and what was the curse?  She thought back to the diagnosis book she had read.  What had it said, precisely, about seeing black?

****

Rosie looked down at the notes she had written about Harry.  She couldn’t seem to recall anything else at the moment, and she wanted to take a look at the diagnosis book again.  Folding up the parchment, she went up to the dorm room and opened her trunk, pulling out the thick tome.  She sat down her bed, and flipped through the pages until she found the introduction.  Scanning over the paragraph, she read something that caught her eye:  ‘ _...encompasses your typical curse, but can also cover attacks by Dark magic that have effects beyond physical damage, as well as possession. _ ’

****

Possession?  Initially the idea hadn’t even crossed her mind, but now she saw it as a distinct possibility.  After all, Harry’s behaviour had changed so much.  How many times had she thought of Harry as ‘her Harry’ versus the ‘black out Harry’?  But if in fact he was possessed, was it related to his cursed scar, or was it something else?  Perhaps she should convince him to see Madam Pomfrey, since the matron would surely have more expertise.  When Rosie had done the diagnosis spell on Harry, she did remember that the blackness did not seem localized around the scar.  In fact, she saw it throughout his head, and also there seemed to be a touch of blackness around his heart.

****

If it was possession, this was bad - very bad indeed.  Surely, with a possession, it needed to be dealt with sooner rather than later.  The black outs in the empathic link were growing more and more - what if the curse completely took over?  She had to find Harry as soon as possible, and she needed to ensure she found him when it was ‘her Harry’ - the one that she had known all her life.  She also needed to go down to the library to find out all she could about possession and the methods of removing the possessing entity.

****

There was plenty of time before curfew, so Rosie put the thick tome back and shut her trunk.  Even if it were close to curfew, she had recently made it a habit to keep the invisibility cloak stuffed in the bottom her of bookbag, and she could afford to risk staying out late.  She found herself wishing that Luna was with her.  Her friend had made a few statements about Harry that always seemed rather insightful, and she wished she could bounce her thoughts off Luna’s unconventional mind.  Speaking to Luna always seemed to clarify things for her.

****

Romulus, whom she had been doing homework with earlier gave her a curious look as she rushed out of the common room, but he did not follow.  While he did worry a great deal, he knew that the incident with the older Ravenclaw girls had made Rosie more alert and cautious.  Furthermore, he made an effort to protect Rosie from the third year girls.  He did this from the shadows, of course.  He didn’t want to draw Marietta or Sarah’s ire, but he also didn’t want to leave Rosie on her own.  Usually, he would use mild jinxes, like the tripping or impediment jinx to keep them away from Rosie.  Thus far it seemed to work.  Even though he did not admit it openly, it had been a relief that she had been spending more time in the Ravenclaw Nest.  He didn’t exactly want to spend all his free time following her around to make sure she was safe.  Well, that’s what he told himself.

****

As for Rosie, she flew down the stairs, and rushed off to the library.  While there, she did not see Harry or Neville, but she did spot Hermione.  The bushy haired girl was sitting by herself at one of the tables, with her books placed neatly around her.  It was almost as if she was so used to studying with Harry and Neville, that it was hard for her to spread her things out and make use of the rest of the table.

****

 “Hi Hermione,” Rosie said, sitting in the chair next to her.  She wanted to ask Hermione about Harry, but didn’t want to seem strange or suspicious about it.

****

 “Oh!  Hi Rosie.  I didn’t see you,” Hermione replied.  “How have you been?”

****

 “Oh - alright, I suppose.  There’s always so much to do.  How about you?”

****

 “Struggling with this potions essay.  Professor Snape asked for sixteen inches, and I have more than twenty.  Last time I submitted an essay that was too long, I lost marks, so now I have to decide what to take out,” Hermione replied, with a disgruntled expression.  She hated the idea of not being able to include all her interesting research in her assignments.

****

 “Yeah, the Ravenclaws generally find Professor Snape to be maddening.  I hear that complaint a lot.”

****

 “Really?” Hermione sighed.  “The hat considered putting me in Ravenclaw.  Sometimes I think I would have been better off there.”

****

Rosie gave her a small smile.  “Yeah, you would have done well in Ravenclaw.  Intelligence is a matter of pride in our House.  Anyway, I was wondering, have you seen Harry?  It seems like he’s rarely in the library these days.  I haven’t even been able to find him on days when I make calls to Sirius.”

****

 “Harry?”  Hermione echoed.  “I suppose Harry has changed his personal schedule this term.  We come into the library in the early mornings now, and often between our classes.  He and Neville have been spending a lot more time with the others in the afternoons and evenings.”

****

 “The others?”

****

 “The other Gryffindors.  Harry and Neville seem to have gotten close to a lot of the third years, and even some of the fourth years.” Hermione scrunched up her face.  “Even Lavender and Parvarti have been hovering around them, though I wouldn’t say that those two are close to Harry or Neville.”

****

 “That’s odd.  Harry has gotten a lot more social, hasn’t he,” Rosie commented.

****

 “He has!  It’s quite the change from last year.  If you had told me in first year that Harry Potter would end up popular, I would have struggled to believe it.  He used to be so - shy,” Hermione continued thoughtfully.

****

 “Yeah - even before coming to Hogwarts, Harry was usually pretty quiet.  He didn’t even really like going out to public places.  What do you make of it?  Have you noticed anything strange about Harry?” Rosie asked.

****

 “Strange?  Well, my current hypothesis is that once he gained more confidence in classes, he was able to let his personality finally shine through.  After all, Professor Snape was so cruel to him last year.  Anyone’s confidence would be crushed by that kind of treatment.  But now that that’s no longer an issue, Harry has been a lot happier.  I’m so proud of him, and happy for him.”  Hermione paused for a moment.  “The other thing is, well, after that horrible prank last year, a lot of Gryffindors ended up being pulled out of school.  And after Christmas break, we had a couple more students that didn’t come back.  There’s just less of us now, and Harry and Neville have really managed to pull the House together.”

****

 “So - you don’t think he’s being - well - not himself?”

****

 “I’ve only known him since first year, Rosie.  You’re his sister.  Are you saying you’ve noticed something odd?  Should I be worried?”  Hermione’s expression was instantly concerned.

****

 “Oh - well - It’s just that I rarely see him.  Being in different Houses and different years makes it difficult.  So it’s hard to say.”

****

Hermione considered her words and nodded.  “I imagine it’s harder for you than for most.  You’ve been with him for ten years, and then suddenly, you’re separated.  It must have come as a shock.  I’m an only child, so I can’t begin to guess what it’s like.”

****

Rosie nodded.  “Does it bother you that Harry is spending more time with the other Gryffindors?  I used to see you three together all the time.”

****

 “Hm?  Well, we share almost all the same classes, and we study together in the mornings.  Plus, he always eats with Neville and me in the Great Hall.  It doesn’t really bother me that he wants to spend time with our housemates.  Besides -” Hermione smiled broadly,  “he says that after spending time with the others, he appreciates my intelligence more than ever.”  There was a sparkle of pride in Hermione’s eyes.

****

 “But then, why would he spend time with them, if you’re so much more intelligent?”  

****

 “Well, I can’t be everything for Harry, you know.  He has his own interests that I don’t share, like Quidditch.  And it’s quite remarkable, but all his new friendships has really brought the Gryffindors together.  It feels like more of a big family now.”  Hermione smiled warmly.  “It’s actually quite nice being around everyone - but - you know” Hermione gestured to her books and parchment,  “sometimes homework has to come first.”

****

Rosie gave a weak laugh.  “As a Ravenclaw, I definitely understand.”

****

 “Are you alright, Rosie?” Hermione asked, noticing Rosie’s expression.

****

Rosie sighed.  “I’ve just been worried about Harry a lot.  Especially since he’s changed.  It feels like I don’t really know him anymore.”

****

 “Oh Rosie,” Hermione said sympathetically, taking one of her hands in a gesture of friendship.  “I’ll speak to Harry about it.  He can get so caught up in what he’s doing that things get forgotten.  I know he would never forget about his own sister.  Harry just tries to do too much at once.”

****

 “Thanks Hermione,” Rosie said weakly.  “I’ve got to go find some books.  I’ll talk to you later.”  Hermione smiled and nodded.

****

As Rosie searched through the aisles of books, she was only able to find one book related to possessions.  She discovered that most of the other books were in the restricted section, which made sense, considering that to possess someone was a type of dark magic.  She didn’t want to have to explain her interest in possessions to her teachers, so she decided it would be an opportune time to make use of her invisibility cloak.  The library closed at 8 o’clock which was in half an hour.

****

Taking the single book that she found, she sat down at one of the quiet corners of the library where she wasn’t likely to be disturbed.  The publication she had found wasn’t specifically focused on possessions.  It was more of an overview of various spectral occurrences and dark creatures, and how one could protect oneself from them.  It described hauntings from malignant ghosts, violent poltergeists, dementors, lethifolds as well as possessions.  Rosie flipped ahead to the chapter on possessions.

****

The information seemed to be fairly broad.  Possessions could be highly varied, and the book described numerous ways that one could protect oneself from being possessed, from certain plants that repelled dark spirits, to special talismens.  However, what Rosie wanted to know was what could be done after someone had potentially been possessed.  The symptoms of possession were varied, and not all possessions had the same symptoms.  In some cases, those who were possessed could end up repelling many animals and creatures, but it could also result in attracting other creatures.  Possessions could be relatively benign.  The book mentioned situations where children died, and in their fright, they ended up possessing a person nearby, not wanting to move on to the next realm.  However, many possessions had a more sinister quality.

****

A person who was possessed could potentially be one place at one moment, and then in the next, be somewhere else, and have no idea how they got there.  People who were possessed were also prone to strange dreams, which were often related to the memories of the one who was doing the possessing.  A person’s personality could change, often in a very rapid and drastic way.  It was also possible that the possessed person could seem to have multiple personalities.  There had even been multiple incidences in the past where a person’s magical alignment changed, from light to dark, or in unusual cases, from dark to light.  However, changes of magical alignment generally only occurred if the possessing spirit was extremely powerful.

****

As Rosie read through the various symptoms, she felt a chill creeping down her spine.  Many of the symptoms could fit Harry’s situation.  She flipped through more pages, and found the section that described the removal of possessing spirits.  

****

_ There is no single method for removing possessing spirits,  _ the book stated.   _ While muggles believe that all possessions are the result of evil spirits and demons, those in the wizarding world know better.   _

****

_ First, it is important to discover the type of spirit that is doing the possessing.  There are various methods for discovering this, which are described below.  It is of vital importance to know what kind of spirit one is dealing with.  For example, if a witch or wizard were possessed by a child, then performing a ritual to remove dark spirits could potentially damage the child’s spirit, and prevent them from being able to move to the next world. _

****

_ Related to the first point is discovering whether the possessing spirit is that of a human, or whether it is the spirit of another creature or even an animal.  Generally, human spirits are drawn to other humans, but there have been recorded cases of witches and wizards being possessed by creatures.  Possessions by creatures can be obvious, if the victim displays beastial behaviours, but in some cases, the witch’s or wizard’s own magic and spirit will dominate the possessing spirit.  If this is the case, then the animalistic behaviours will only appear when the victim falls unconscious, such as in their sleep. _

****

_ Next, it is important to discover the strength of the possessing spirit.  For weak possessing spirits, almost no symptoms will manifest at all.  In these scenarios, the witch or wizard often only discovers they are possessed by accident, since it has almost no impact on their lives.  Fortunately, weak spirits are easy to dispel.  Powerful possessing spirits will have a much greater impact on the witch or wizard.  If a spirit is particularly powerful, they can potentially completely dominate their victim, and take over their body entirely.  This will not kill the possessed witch or wizard’s spirit, but their spirit will be trapped in a corner of their own consciousness, and will not be able to free themselves of their own efforts.  Rituals to remove powerful spirits are not difficult to perform, but they are difficult to carry out because of the resistance of the possessing spirit.  Furthermore, if the possessing spirit is powerful enough, they can overpower the ritual, and it is unlikely that such a spirit can be removed except by an even more powerful witch or wizard performing the ritual. _

****

_ Another significant factor is the length of time that the witch or wizard has been possessed.  Unless the spirit is extremely weak, then the longer the possession, the more difficult it will be to remove the possessing spirit.  If a spirit is powerful enough to subdue the witch or wizard’s own spirit, they can put that spirit in a sleep-like state, and even if the possessing spirit is removed, the victims may not ever wake. _

****

_ Finally, it is important to find out the alignment of the spirit that is doing the possessing.  Many spirits are neutral.  Light spirits require a completely different method of removal than dark spirits.  There have even been cases where Light spirits have been convinced to removed themselves from the witch or wizard, after being given compelling enough reasons.  Dark spirits are much more difficult to remove.  They are also potentially very dangerous to remove, because they may cause the witch or wizard to physically harm themselves, in an effort to resist removal. _

****

_ The next section will detail the various methods for identifying possessing spirits.  This book only gives a general overview of spirit removal rituals.  It is highly recommended that one learns about various runic protection frameworks, which provide aegis by preventing spirits from passing through the runic barriers.  These runic frameworks do not dispel spirits, but they can aid the ritual by preventing the spirit from escaping. _


	21. Chapter 21

Rather than feeling reassured by what she had read, Rosie felt more anxious than ever.  She pulled out the parchment that she had been using to take notes about Harry’s situation and added a few sentences about possessions and spirit detection methods. She also included a reminder to speak to Luna, who had a surprising amount of knowledge related to runes.

****

She gave a brief glance over the rituals that removed possessing spirits.  Many of them involved runes, or at least the use of patterns of power, as well as complex potions.  Weak spirits could be removed with a simple spell, an a potion.  Some of the rituals required specific locations, such as ley lines and nodes.  One ritual involved transfiguring the witch or wizard into a special type of tree which repelled certain magical creature spirits.  But before she could find the right ritual, she had to discover whether Harry actually was possessed, and if he was, what kind of spirit was possessing him.

****

Before long, the library was closing, and Rosie followed the group of students out into the corridor.  Many of them were Ravenclaws looking disgruntled because they had clearly lost track of time while studying.  She waited for about an hour before finding an isolated corridor.  There, she draped the invisibility cloak over herself before returning to the library.  There were still students milling around the hallways - it was still an hour until curfew.  Rosie’s palms were sweating with nervousness.  She had hadn’t really broken any school rules until now, aside from sneaking into the Gryffindor common room.  But the Gryffindor common room had been lively and casual compared to the silence of the library.  Moreover, she was a Ravenclaw - the library was almost seen as a sacred place.

****

Steeling herself, she entered the library and wound her way around the book aisles until she reached the restricted section.  She had been warned by Harry that some of the books could be physically or magically dangerous, and potentially noisy.  However, considering that she had Harry had grown up reading far too many books related to the dark arts, this was no surprise to her.  She had the Black library to thank for that.

****

She examined the shelves, trying to find the books she needed.  However, there were so many interesting books that it was difficult to keep herself focused.  She remembered how she had first thought that the assortment of books in the Ravenclaw Nest were impressive, but the selection here was even better.  Forcing herself back to the task at hand, she finally found a couple of books that were related to possessions.  Not daring to take them out of the library, she huddled herself into a corner.  She used the  _ lumos _ charm under the invisibility cloak, setting the books on her lap.  One of the books was fairly thin, and the other one was squat and wide.  She started with the thin book, which was completely hand-written in a cramped script.  

****

This particular book was solely focused on the topic of possessions, and it was a dark read.  It included various instructions and practices on how one could temporarily leave one’s body and inhabit another person’s body.  There was a section detailing multiple methods for subduing another witch’s or wizard’s spirit to ensure that one remained dominant.  However, there were also multiple warnings about how one had to keep their original body safe, because it was vulnerable when the spirit was gone.  She flipped through the sections, and finally found some information on dispelling possessing spirits.  The book claimed that most of the methods were highly effective, but did not clarify whether they were for light or dark spirits.  She assumed, based on the rest of the book, that the rituals were devoted towards removing dark spirits.

****

All the suggestions that were listed involved the use of blood magic, and one or two even made use of soul magic.  Growing up in a dark house, surrounded with dark artefacts meant that Primrose and Harry were no strangers to blood magic.  As long as the spirit expulsion process didn’t involve killing or torturing someone, she would remain open to the possibilities.  The rituals claimed to be very safe for the possessed witch or wizard, which made Rosie more inclined to consider them.  She took note of one or two that looked promising, writing down the name and page number on her parchment.

****

The second book was written in a very archaic language.  Though Rosie was able to read it, it was a slow and challenging read.  It was too much information to sift through, and she wanted to return to the Ravenclaw Nest before curfew.   So, she put her out light, and returned the books to their place.  Once she was out of the library, she removed the invisibility cloak. She narrowly managed to avoid Peeves when she heard the sound of him blowing a raspberry around a corner, which meant she had to take a detour.  However, the detour was preferable to dealing with the chaotic poltergeist.  For all she knew, he could be armed with an arsenal of dung bombs, and she no desire to be hit by one.  Consider how sensitive Romulus seemed to be to smells, he would never forgive her if she was careless enough to be hit.  Back at the nest, she noticed that Romulus was still sitting at the same spot.  She gave him a quick smile before climbing up to her dorm room.

****

Rosie set her alarm to wake her up half an hour earlier than usual.  She was determined to find Harry.  Since she knew that he didn’t have afternoon classes on Thursdays, she hoped that they could give Sirius a call on the mirror.  While the black outs in their link were not precisely predictable, they did seem to happen more often in the afternoons and evenings than in the mornings.  She would much prefer to speak to her ‘Harry,’ however, she resolved that even if their link was blacked out, she would still talk to him.  With these thought in mind, she soon fell asleep.

****

The following morning, Rosie quickly made her way down to the library.  Just as Hermione had explained, she and Harry were sitting at a table, working on their assignments.  Rosie knew that this Harry was ‘her’ Harry, but she could not really seem to sense his mood.  He was focused on his homework with a deep intensity, and the most she could feel was a thrum of satisfaction.  Feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness, she walked over to the table.

****

 “Good morning Harry, Hi Hermione,” she said.  “Can I sit here?”  She didn’t know why she felt compelled to ask.  In the past, she would have just made herself comfortable.

****

 “Hi Rosie, of course!” Hermione said with a bright and cheerful smile.

****

 “Go ahead,” Harry said at the same time.

****

Rosie sat in the seat next to Harry before she spoke.  “Hermione told me you had changed your schedule.”

****

 “Yeah, she told me about your conversation.  I should have told you.  I’m sorry Rosie,” Harry’s expression was sheepish, but for some reason, it didn’t seem to reach his eyes.  From the emotional link, she could tell that Harry wasn’t exactly happy to see her.  He wasn’t unhappy either - he was just guarded, and unusually distant.  It seemed extremely strange - why would Harry be on his guard around her?

****

Rosie forced herself to maintain a calm expression.  “It’s alright.  I was actually thinking of giving Sirius a call this afternoon.  Do you want to meet at our usual spot?  He’s been asking for you the last couple of weeks.”  She knew it was a bit manipulative, but if Harry was still Harry, he wouldn’t say no to a direct request to speak to Sirius.

****

 “Oh.  Alright.  Does three-ish work?”

****

Rosie nodded and smiled.  “Three is fine.”  She could see Harry casting impatient glances at his assignments, so she said goodbye to Hermione and Harry, and made her way to the Great Hall for breakfast.

****

Rosie’s first class of the day was Potions.  She had continued working on her own ever since Romulus had left.  Although she and Romulus rarely ever engaged in verbal conversations, Potions was one topic that Romulus seemed to enjoy discussing.  He wouldn’t necessarily go into elaborate detail, like most other people might when it came to their interests, but there was always a spark of passion in his eyes whenever she asked him about his projects.  His projects were also far more interesting than the first year curriculum.

****

She had once asked Romulus why Professor Snape had been willing to let him work on projects independently.  She knew that he favoured his Slytherins, and they often had the benefit of extra tutoring, or bonus projects, but it was rare for him to mentor or help students in other Houses.  Romulus didn’t particularly seem concerned, nor did he even have an answer.  But sometimes, Rosie thought that if Snape could see Romulus’s passion for potions as clearly as she could, it was understandable that the unapproachable professor would be willing to take Romulus under his wing.

****

It also seemed to Rosie that Professor Snape had been nicer to her recently.  Of course, he had always been distantly polite before, but ever since the day she had been attacked, something seemed to have changed.  She couldn’t exactly put her finger on what it was.  Perhaps ‘nicer’ wasn’t the correct term and it would have been more accurate to say that he was less harsh.  Professor Snape’s behaviour did cause Rosie to give more thought to the man himself.  It wasn’t so much that she enjoyed thinking about the Professor.  Rather, she just wanted to think about something other than Harry for a while.  

****

Rosie knew that Sirius and her father had a strong antipathy towards Professor Snape.  She had heard the rather cruel epithet of “Snivellus” throughout most of her childhood (particularly when Sirius wanted to describe a ‘funny’ story from his school days).  But as she considered Sirius’s stories, he had never mentioned whether or not Professor Snape had mean nicknames for the Marauders.  In fact, if she thought about it, a lot of the stories involved two or more of the Marauders attacking Professor Snape, seemingly while he was alone.

****

Whenever Sirius told stories of his time at Hogwarts, he always did so in such a humourous way, or with a nostalgic warmth.  As a result, whenever he had described the Marauder’s encounters with Professor Snape, Rosie always got the impression that it had just been light-hearted fun.  However, if she were to start imagining the situation from Professor Snape’s perspective, it might have looked completely different.

****

She thought about Snape’s harsh actions towards Harry - particularly last year.  Both Harry and Rosie had often heard that Harry bore a strong resemblance to James.  Could it have been that Professor Snape believed that Harry and James had kindred temperaments, just because they were related?  She frowned, as she realized that her thoughts caused her to miss Professor’s Snape’s lecture about the potion they would be brewing.  She looked up at the blackboard, reading the ingredient list and instructions, and went to the cupboard to gather the necessary materials.

****

Once she was back at her neatly organized workstation, she started to prepare the ingredients, and was once again contemplating Professor Snape’s past.  The Professor alway struck her as being highly intelligent - in fact, she could describe all of Hogwarts’ professor’s that way.  She couldn’t imagine that someone as sharp-witted at the Professor would be unable to differentiate between Harry and James.  However, one thing Rosie failed to account for was the sheer depth of hatred that Snape had felt towards James Potter.  If she could have peered into his heart at that very moment, it would have shocked her to know that he kept the flames of animosity burning for so many years.

****

 “The potion calls for six Billywig Stings, not seven, Miss Potter,” Professor Snape said, startling her from her thoughts.  She looked at the sting that she had been holding in her hand, and then set it down, her face colouring in embarrassment from making such an elementary mistake.  It was odd, hearing a correction from Professor Snape without that mocking drawl in his voice.

****

 “Thank you for correcting me,” Rosie said softly, peering up at the Professor.  If he had not done so, her potion would have completely failed, and she probably wouldn’t have even known why.  

****

 “Please set whatever’s distracting your thoughts aside, and focus on your potions when you’re brewing,” Professor Snape said before he continued forwards, examining the other students’ work.

****

Rosie was glad Professor Snape was walking away because the heat in her cheeks had only intensified.  She couldn’t believe that she had been about to flub the potion, while thinking of the Professor.  It was so embarrassing.  Forcing herself back to the present, she kept her mind on brewing her potion correctly for the rest of the class.  Her potion turned out nearly perfect, but she couldn’t help but think that she didn’t deserve her results.

****

The following class was Defence, which Rosie spent reading up on possessions at the back of the class.  Professor Lockhart had long learned that it was best to not call on the students who sat at the back, such as Romulus, Rosie and Luna.  They tended to ask him questions that he couldn’t answer, or point out the logical inconsistencies in his stories.  The students at the front of the class however - ah, they were true gems, who knew how to give him the attention that he knew he deserved.

****

After lunch was Herbology, and Rosie ended up having an interesting discussion with Mathilda and Luthais about cursed objects.  Mathilda and Luthais had both grown up in Dark households, and there were always objects of power that could potentially cause a great deal of harm.  They had gotten onto the tangent because Professor Sprout had mentioned that oils from the seeds of the plant that they were handling often resulted in hallucinations that left witches and wizards thinking they had been cursed.

****

Luthais confessed that as a child, he had somehow gotten hold of a scepter that the house elves had taken out of the display case to clean.  The cursed item absorbed his life energy, but in exchange, it gave him immense power.  Of course, in order for the scepter to work, he needed to feel extremely destructive emotions, and in particular, bloodlust.  Seeing as he had only been five years old at the time, his strongest rages usually only occurred when he wasn’t permitted to have dessert before dinner.  Luthais did admit that when his parents found him playing with the scepter, they felt as though their hearts would stop from the terror of the situation.

****

  “I can only imagine what their faces must have looked like,” Mathilda said with amusement.

****

  “Knowing my godfather, he probably would have laughed if that had happened to me,” Rosie added with amusement.

****

Finally, classes were done for the day.  Rather than taking a shower, she used a cleaning charm on her dirt-covered robes.  It wasn’t a first year charm, but most children who grew up in magical households knew it well.  It was a good way to try and cover up the messes that were made to avoid getting into trouble - assuming the child was able to steal their parent’s wand, of course.

****

Rosie headed up to the stairs leading to the Owlery where she typically met Harry.  She was looking forward to the call that they would make to Sirius.  Sirius always seemed happier to be speaking to both of them.  However, she wasn’t quite as eager to speak to Harry.  On one hand, she desperately wanted to get things out in the open, but on the other hand, it was painful to feel like her brother no longer cared for her as much as he once did.  And if it did turn out that he was possessed, that made it even worse.  She would basically be dealing with something far out of her depth.  She found herself wondering if she could just tell the teachers about it.  It was their job to help students, wasn’t it?

****

It wasn’t long before Harry arrived, who was waving Nearly Headless Nick off.  Rosie smiled, but it was a tremulous, nervous smile.

****

 “He’s certainly likes you a lot,” Rosie commented hesitantly.

****

 “Hm.  Yeah,” Harry replied.  Rosie pursed her lips.  She could feel irritation and impatience radiating from her link with Harry, which made it difficult to be around him.  Nonetheless, she forced herself to stand her ground.

****

 “ _ Harry, I need to talk about something important, _ ” Rosie said to him in parseltongue.

****

 “ _ What is it? _ ” Harry asked.  His expression was neutral, but the impatience still remained.

****

  “ _ I’ve noticed that you’ve changed a lot,”  _ Rosie began.

****

_   “Well, people change.  It’s part of growing up,”  _ Harry responded.

****

_  “You said you had been falling asleep during the day.  Do you ever fall asleep and then wake up somewhere else? _ ”

****

  “ _ What does that have to do with anything _ ?” Harry asked.  The impatience she felt from him had shifted to a sense of unease.

****

  “ _ I just want to know.  Have you? _ ”

****

  “ _ I don’t know.  Maybe, just once. _ ”

****

  “ _ What about dreams?  Do you have dreams that you’re someone else? _ ” Rosie continued.

****

  “ _ What’s with these questions? _ ” Harry huffed in annoyance.   _ “Are we going to call Sirius or not? _ ”

****

Though Rosie knew Harry was feeling irritated with her, his words still stung.  “ _ You act like you don’t even want to be around me anymore.  Why are you avoiding me? _ ”

****

  “Have you ever considered that it’s weird knowing that someone else feels what you feel?” Harry hissed, though he was no longer speaking in parseltongue.  “Don’t you think that a person might want to have privacy, rather than knowing that they’re got someone who can just pluck the emotions from their mind?”  Harry’s eyes flashed with undisguised ire.  Rosie found herself completely taken aback.  Harry had never spoken to her like this before.

****

 “I - well - Harry - it’s always helped you before,” Rosie said weakly.

****

 “Yeah, and it doesn’t help me anymore.  I’m sure you’ve noticed that I’m not having nightmares these days.  I just want to have my own life, without having someone emotionally monitoring me.” 

****

 “I’m not - I don’t meant to make you feel like you’re being monitored.  I’m sorry Harry.  I just - miss how things used to be.” Rosie could hear her voice breaking as she spoke.

****

Harry huffed testily.  “You need to grow up.  I mean, think about it, Rosie.  What would happen if I had a girlfriend or something?  Would you just creep around, getting all excited whenever I snogged her?  Would you want to know how it felt every time I wanted to have a wank?  Or do you already know?” 

****

Rosie was shocked to the core by the crudeness of Harry’s language, as well as the way he seemed to be determined to slice her apart with the sharpness of his words.  Somehow, he had made her feel incredibly dirty - the link they shared had always seemed special, but now it took on a terrible, sinister cast.  And this wasn’t even Harry when the link was blacked out.  This was ‘her’ Harry.  Only, she didn’t feel like she knew this Harry at all.  She could feel tears stinging her eyes.

****

 “I would never - how could you think I’d do something like that?”  Rosie searched Harry’s emerald green eyes, but they were completely unsympathetic.  He was looking at her as though she were some beetle that deserved to be crushed.  From the link, she could feel his disgust and contempt.  Never in her life had she thought that he’d direct such negative feelings towards her.   She felt that she had somehow been yanked out of the world she knew, and placed in a completely different reality.

****

 “Are you so sure you wouldn’t?  I mean come on Rosie, you got sorted into Ravenclaw.  I’m sure you’d tell yourself that it was all for intellectual purposes,” Harry sneered.

****

 “No!” Rosie exclaimed.  “No.  I wouldn’t!  Harry, you’re not yourself!”

****

Harry huffed.  “You think you know me so well, all because of some creepy link that we have?  Don’t fool yourself.”

****

 “Harry!  Listen to me.  I think you’re possessed.  And I know that you’re cursed.”

****

 “Ha!  Is that what it’s come down to?  You can’t even accept me for who am I am, so you claim it’s a possession or a curse?”  Harry shook his head angrily.  “I don’t have to deal with this.”  He turned around, and stormed off, and leaving Rosie standing behind in shocked bewilderment.

****

 “Harry!” She cried out, but he was already gone.  Rosie was too distressed to even think of calling Sirius.  She felt dazed, as though unable to believe what had just happened.  Though she had been aware that talking to Harry might have been potentially difficult, the experience was far worse than she had imagined.  She had never felt so alienated from her brother before.

****

Rosie did not know how long she spent, rooted on the spot, but eventually she forced herself to move.  She had no desire to return to the Ravenclaw Nest - her emotions were far too raw, and she wanted to be alone to sort out her situation.  Instead, she made her way up to the Come and Go Room.  She couldn’t recall what she requested from the room, but when she opened the door, she found herself in the parlour of Grimmauld place.  Making her way over to the familiar sofa, she sat down, pulling her legs against her chest so that she was in a tight ball.  It was as though she wanted to physically make herself as small as she felt.  It was a while before she realized that silent tears were streaming down her eyes.

****

Eventually, the emotional shock began to wear off.  Rosie felt increasingly convinced that Harry was somehow possessed.  She desperately wanted to believe that the person she had just talked to wasn’t the real Harry.  She couldn’t forget that the books she had read mentioned that drastic shifts in personality were a common symptom of possessions.

****

With a ragged sigh, Rosie uncurled herself from her balled up position and stretched her aching limbs.  She grabbed her bookbag, and pulled out her notes on Harry, forcing herself to write down the experience she just had.  Her hands trembled slightly, as she recorded how she had told Harry he was cursed and possibly possessed, and he had just brushed it off.  She couldn’t bring herself to write some of the cruder things he had said to her, but made note of his uncharacteristic behaviour and language.

****

She looked over the notes she had written so far, and glanced at the list of steps she had intended to take.  Rosie had made an earlier note that she wanted to try and convince Harry to speak to Madam Pomfrey, but she couldn’t imagine that happening anymore.  She had spoken to Hermione, who had noticed Harry had changed, but seemed to believe it was positive.  It might be a good idea to speak to Neville as well.  Neville was a childhood friend, so it was possible that he would be more alert to inconsistencies in Harry’s behaviour than Hermione was.

****

Also on the list of things to do was to learn about possession detection methods.  The book she had been reading about in the library had listed various methods for detecting types of possessions.  However, since she had planned to visit the restricted section that day, she didn’t end up checking out the original book that she had found.  She frowned at her lack of foresight, and wished she had the book in hand.  To her surprise, it suddenly appeared before her.

****

A weak laugh escaped from her lips.  She still felt emotionally raw, but the surprise of getting what she wanted made her feel a slight bit better.  Making herself comfortable, she flipped through the book until she found the section detailing the methods of identifying possession and types of possessing spirits.  Tentatively, she decided against any methods that made use of potions.  She couldn’t imagine convincing Harry to drink random potions, and most potions were so strong tasting that it was unlikely that it could be hidden in Harry’s food or drinks.

****

Charms and spells were a possibility.  The Gryffindors and Slytherins were still extremely cautious around one another, and occasionally, hexes and jinxes still flew between them.  If she were to use a possession detecting spell on Harry, he might just assume that someone was trying to jinx him, and would brush it off.  As she read about runic detection methods, she decided that runes were a valid method as well.  There were some runes that could be placed in a corridor, and as people walked past the runic inscription, it would light up if certain types of possessing spirits were detected.

****

The book also listed various divination methods, but it also explained that such methods could yield ambiguous or confusing results.  Since she didn’t want to rely on tea leaves to tell her about Harry’s state of well-being, she decided against making use of divination.  

****

Certain that the most important first step would be confirming whether or not Harry was actually possessed, she looked over her options.  In the end, she decided on a runic circle.  From what she could tell, the runic circle was drawn on the floor, but if it was done correctly, it would be invisible to all except the one who created the circle.  The circle detected whether more than one spirit was inhabiting a body, and if that were the case, the circle would give off a purplish glow.  The only trouble was that the runic pattern was complicated, and slightly beyond her grasp.  She would need Luna’s help in order to learn how to create the pattern.  As she glanced around the parlour, it occurred to her that she could bring Luna here.  They could practice creating the runic circle on the floor of the Come and Go room, and when she was able to master the circle, she could craft it herself, and place it in the portrait in front of the Gryffindor common room.  As Rosie plotted and planned, her tension eventually began to melt away.  Though Harry’s actions had been hurtful, she still wanted to do everything she possibly could to help him.

****

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****

Romulus was glad to have chosen to come to Hogwarts.  He had had doubts in the beginning, but those concerns eventually faded.  His life had fallen into a comfortable and interesting routine.  He found that he enjoyed the quiet homework sessions with Primrose in the Ravenclaw Nest.  In part, it was because he liked Primrose’s company, but it was also because he felt safer when he could keep an eye on her.  It was surprisingly nice to have a friend, and after the Christmas that they had spent together, the friendship felt more solid.  The incident with the third year girls only heightened his feelings of protectiveness.  It was also nice to have someone interested in listening to him as he talked about the potions work that he was doing with Professor Snape.  He felt deeply grateful that the Professor had agreed to allow him to work at an advanced pace.  While he did not often concern himself with social details, Romulus was certainly very aware that Professor Snape rarely ever mentored students outside of Slytherin.

****

One of the first things that Primrose had asked him when they had met was his reasons for coming to Hogwarts.  In truth, it had been Remus who had pushed the idea.  Though Remus never pressured him to make the decision, Romulus knew how Remus felt about this school.  For Remus, it was the place where he found his best friends, and it gave him a sense of belonging.  It was also a place where he could pursue his intellectual interests, and expand his knowledge about magic.  It was evident to Romulus that Remus was hoping his adopted son would have the same positive experiences.

****

The first few months had done little to dispel Romulus’s doubts.  Unlike Remus, Romulus didn’t feel a strong urge for friendship and belonging.  Despite having wolfish tendencies, Romulus was never particularly driven to find a pack.  He had often assumed that he was simply a lone wolf, and was content to live that way.  When he had first met Primrose, his solitary instincts were still very strong, but over time, he came to see her as one of his pack.  He enjoyed her presence, and in an unexplainable way, he felt that she could understand him.  And then, there were his odd feelings over Christmas break as well as the mix of rage and fear he felt when Rosie was hurt.  The intensity of his emotions had caught him off guard.  He didn’t like thinking about it - it made him feel vulnerable, so he pushed the thoughts aside.

****

What was just as surprising was that being here at Hogwarts had allowed Romulus to truly immerse himself in the study of potions.  Prior to coming to Hogwarts, Romulus has thought that his own experimental methods, combined with what he had read in books would be enough.  He would have been perfectly happy to remain home schooled and self-taught.  And yet, somehow, Professor Snape had added a new dimension and depth to his understanding of the topic.  Romulus had found potions interesting before, but somehow, his time here at Hogwarts had deepened that interest into a strong passion.

****

Romulus came to see that many of his previous self-taught methods were crude or over-simplistic.  It was rather like trying to create a detailed painting by using a paint-roller.  Professor Snape had shown him many of the subtleties that he had not been aware of before.  While Romulus’s technique had always been careful and exact, Professor Snape was able to show him new techniques that Romulus would not have considered.  Romulus had previously prided himself on his creativity in brewing, but compared to Professor Snape, he was no more than a neophyte with so much yet to learn.

****

More than that, here at Hogwarts, Romulus had access to far more potions ingredients than he ever had at home.  He remembered how his heart had leapt when he first saw Professor Snape’s cupboard of potions ingredients in the classroom.  When Professor Snape later revealed his personal store, Romulus’s had burned with excited anticipation.  Fortunately, Romulus had enough self-control to maintain a calm and dignified air.  The Professor did not suffer fools lightly, and Romulus would have never forgiven himself if he had acted foolishly before the talented Potions Master.  Though Romulus did not often give much thought to Professor Snape’s personal life, he did sometimes wonder if Professor Snape was adopted.  He remembered that the Professor had softened his attitude towards Romulus when Romulus admitted that Remus had adopted him.  Romulus supposed that whether to not Professor Snape was adopted did not really matter that much.  As long as the Professor was willing to keep teaching him for whatever reason, he was happy.

****

In many ways, Romulus felt that being at Hogwarts had changed him.  True, he was still as reticent as ever, and was disinclined to open himself up further to the other students, but Romulus thought he had come a long way.  It would have been nice if his school life could have just remained stable. Well, maybe he would have preferred it if Primrose weren’t being stalked by crazy third years, but aside from that, his life had fallen into an interesting and comfortable pattern.  So when it suddenly changed in early February, he was less than pleased.  And of course, the source of the problem seemed to be Primrose, who had a remarkable talent for finding trouble.

****

Initially, he noticed that she was spending less time in the Ravenclaw Nest studying with him, and seemed to be going somewhere with her friend Luna.  He tried to brush it off, but he felt her absence as though it were a tangible thing.  Still, he couldn’t bring himself to chase her down - she had her own life to live.  At least that was how his solitary mind framed the situation.  He knew from her expression that whatever it was, it was important to her, so it wasn’t as though she had spontaneously decided that school work didn’t matter.  It was just that she was involved in something that mattered more than essays and homework.  A tiny voice asked, ‘but what about me?  What about our friendship?’  He pretended not to hear it.

****

During Romulus’s and Primrose’s regular training sessions on Friday and Sunday, Romulus started to notice Luna’s scent in the corridor.  He guessed that Primrose had brought the other girl to the Come and Go room to do whatever it was that Primrose was doing.  The combat and defensive training sessions were always highly enjoyable to him, and as he considered the past few months, he felt that both he and Primrose had improved a great deal.  He liked that it was something that the two of them shared.  Naturally, he was a better fighter than Primrose, and was almost equally strong at both offensive and defensive spells.  However, Primrose was another story altogether. 

****

Primrose was actually quite good at casting offensive spells.  Perhaps due to her upbringing, she had a very vast repertoire of jinxes, hexes and even curses.  Some of her spells would probably be considered dark magic, but since they were being cast on golems, it did not seem to matter.  He just hoped that she would never have the need to cast such spells on any witches or wizards.  Primrose also had surprisingly good reflexes.  He had wondered about it at first, and eventually found out that it was the result of having to live with a godfather who had a penchant for pranks.  

****

Unfortunately, Primrose’s weakness seemed to be defensive magic.  For her, it was so reflexive to simply dodge, that she often failed to cast her shields fast enough.  Rather casting shields automatically, she would end up pausing to think, and those lost seconds translated into being a major weakness.  It seemed easy enough for her to dodge and cast offensive spells.  Thus, it was strange that her ability did not translate to defensive ones.  With a slight frown, Romulus decided he would have to change the focus of their training to strengthen Primrose’s defences.  It would certainly be more useful at school, where offensive magic was much more heavily penalized than defensive magic.

****

While Romulus would have been willing to brush off Primrose’s increasing absences from the Ravenclaw Nest during the day, it was a different matter entirely when she started leaving the tower at night.  Due to Romulus’s erratic sleeping hours, he spent a great deal of his waking hours in the common room.  He especially liked it at night, when most or all of the other students were asleep, and he felt like he had the entire circular space to himself.  Though he wouldn’t have minded it Primrose were there.  Her presence was as peaceful as solitude.

****

It was around the second week of February, when Romulus was reading at his chair in the Nest, and the last of the stragglers had gone up to the dorms to sleep.  He was looking forward to reading his rather interesting book, and he was comfortable situated in his chair by one of the arching windows.  As he turned the page of his book, he suddenly caught Primrose’s scent.  Initially, he thought he imagined it.  He often found himself aware of her scent in the Ravenclaw Nest, even when she was absent.  However, the rain-like scent was stronger than usual.  He looked towards the stairs that led up to the girls’ dormitories, but there was no one there.  Yet his friend’s scent was unmistakable, and his nose had never deceived him.  He could smell her moving towards the exit of the common room, and his eyes narrowed in suspicion and concern.

****

What was going on?  Did Primrose somehow learn to cast the disillusionment charm?  It was a very difficult charm to cast, and while Primrose was extremely talented at charms, he would have been surprised if she actually happened to know that particular charm.  It was much too advanced  for a first year.  The temptation was strong to call out to her, and get her attention.  Or could it be that she had noticed him and just decided to ignore him?  The idea was rather depressing.  If he knew friendship would cause him this kind of emotional discomfort, he might have opted to avoid it altogether.  

****

Romulus never saw himself as the sort of person who got in the middle of things - he preferred to be a silent witness. He didn’t want for his presence to be known, and if someone were to offer him a thousand galleons to be famous, he would be tempted to turn down the gold.  But when it came to Primrose, he found that he wanted to be more involved.  Maybe not with everything - that seemed unrealistic.  But yet, if he were honest, it was tempting to let himself be drawn in, to actually care about someone’s life other than his own and Remus’s.  The feelings put him at war with himself.

****

The book he was currently reading was particularly interesting.  It was actually a historical memoir of a very notorious Potions Master who had developed many unconventional ways of brewing potions.  He had even invented his own potion tools, some for preparing ingredients, and others related to the brewing itself, such as distillations, purifications and extractions.  Many thought that the man was mad, but others were convinced of his brilliance.  But he knew he wouldn’t be able to concentrate on it, now that Primrose had stolen into his consciousness.

****

The common room door had opened and then closed behind her, and Romulus quickly stood up.  He didn’t relish the idea of finding trouble.  However, he knew that if he tried to ignore what his nose had told him, he would be a restless and antsy mess for the rest of the night.  He had to make sure that she was safe - that was what packmates did, right?  He set down the memoir, and left the common room, following Primrose’s scent down the tower and into the dark hallways of the school.

****

For some reason, Primrose seemed to be heading towards Gryffindor Tower.  With whatever she had done to make herself invisible, she was lucky that she was able to avoid being caught.  Romulus kept catching the scent of the prefects who were patrolling the halls, and it made his stomach lurch everytime Primrose seemed to be heading straight towards one of them.  Whatever she was up to that night, it turned out to be uneventful.  She spent a few minutes by the exit of the Gryffindor tower, and then returned back to the Ravenclaw Nest without incident.

****

Once they were safely back in Ravenclaw tower, Romulus wondered if he should broach the topic with Primrose.  But it would be pretty odd to admit that he had been following her during the nights.  It bothered him that he could not discern what she was doing, and as a result, he found himself following her more often than not.  He followed her on two more night-time bouts of wandering, but then he decided that the might as well follow her during the day as well - usually only when she wandered off without Luna.  He wasn’t really able to learn very much from what she had been doing at night.

****

He began to notice that she seemed to be following her brother, which in normal circumstances would have been strange, but when Romulus considered how on edge Harry Potter made him feel, it seemed to make sense.  Harry had taken to carrying his feathered serpent with him everywhere he went. Romulus knew that most people were unaware of this - the creature stayed under his robes all the time, well hidden from all observers.  Romulus remembered the distinct scent of the creature when he had saw it over Christmas, and he knew what it meant to smell that scent which was all over Harry.

****

It was obviously some sort of magical creature - a normal snake wouldn’t have been able to keep itself so well hidden for so long.  Beyond that, Romulus could feel the creature’s magic, just as he felt the occasional spikes in Harry’s magic, that made his hairs stand on end.  The feathered serpent was quite possibly intelligent too, but there was no way for Romulus to tell.  And despite being a very small little thing, Romulus could also sense the danger that radiated from the animal.  If a situation ever arose where he had to fight Harry, he would make sure to do so from a distance.  There was no way he would ever want to get into biting range of that little feathered serpent.

****

Though he kept watch on Primrose’s wanderings, he still felt as though there was something he was missing.  After all, he wasn’t able to accompany her at all hours of the day.  And while he spent a lot of time in her presence tailing her, it wasn’t the same as actually  _ being _ with her.  Following Primrose as she followed her brother around the school was frustrating and unfruitful.  It wasn’t even a week before he decided it was probably best to just ask Primrose what she was up to.  That was probably what a normal wizard would have done anyway.

****

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

****

  “Why are you following your brother.”  

****

Rosie looked up at Romulus in surprise.  The pair of them were sitting at one of the Ravenclaw tables in the Nest, forcing themselves to finish their Defence essay about the uses of the smokescreen spell (or as Professor Lockhart described it “I’d like twelve inches of parchment on all the ways I made use of the  _ Fumos _ charm to infiltrate highly secretive places.  Why, I even used to to sneak into a Veela roost once!  Of course, once the smoke cleared, they were utterly charmed, and told me I shouldn’t have used smoke to obscure my magnificent smile!”)

****

Rosie wasn’t used to Romulus asking her questions.  That in itself would have surprised her.  But the question itself struck at the heart of all her worries, and as such, she could only gape at Romulus.  Romulus had set down his quill and was staring at her expectantly.

****

 “I -” she started, and glanced away towards one of the windows.  She had no idea where to even begin with Romulus’s question.  When it came to Harry, she had more questions than answers.  “I have some suspicions about him.”

****

Rosie peeked back at Romulus, and the look he gave her seemed to say: ‘that’s not a good enough answer.’  Rosie sighed.  Where should she even begin?  And how much should she tell Romulus?

****

 “Harry seems to have changed a lot since the school term began.  He has brushed me off, saying that change is just a part of life, but I think it’s more than that.  The thing is -” Rosie scanned Romulus’s face to gauge his reaction, but as usual, his expression was impassive. “Well, I have this - erm - empathic link with Harry.  I can feel what he feels.”

****

Ordinarily, her empathic link made her feel happy, as though she had a deep connection with her brother, but after the last conversation she had with him, it felt somehow tainted.  Whether she sensed Harry, or whether she only sensed the deep blackness, she was left with a feeling of aversion and estrangement. 

****

 “Go on,” Romulus said softly.  Rosie had a tendency to mask many of her emotions - it was a trait that many purebloods taught their children, and it was seen as a mark of refinement.  However, Rosie did not have the same degree of emotional coolness as Romulus had, and he was able to see that she felt distressed.

****

Encouraged by Romulus’s accepting tone, Rosie continued.  Her eyes seemed distant, as she spoke. “If Harry’s changes were normal it wouldn’t really bother me, I think.”  Romulus wondered what she meant by ‘normal,’ but instead of interrupting, he let her continue speaking.  “But since last September, I’ve been feeling this strange blackness in the link.”  Rosie peered towards Romulus.  “That’s not normal, by the way.  Usually, I just feel his emotions.  Or if he’s sleeping, then I don’t feel anything.  The blackness feels like - hm - it feels somehow tangible, if that makes sense.”

****

Rosie seemed to be starting to ramble, but Romulus didn’t mind.  She was clearly verbalizing her rather disorganized thoughts, rather than taking the time to consider what she would say.  “Well, I started doing some research.  And I stumbled on something by accident.  It was when I started my lessons with Madam Pomfrey, actually.  She had me practicing the basic diagnosis spell.  Well, I decided to try it on Harry, and I actually  _ saw _ the blackness!  Before that, I could only feel it, so I didn’t know what it meant.

****

 “I knew that black meant something in a diagnosis charm - oh, I guess I should mention that the basic diagnosis charm uses colours and shapes to identify problems.  Well, I looked it up, and it turns out that black indicates a - a curse.”  Rosie bit her lower lip, and furrowed her brow.  Before she continued, her eyes shot back at Romulus.  “Don’t tell this to anyone!  I don’t entirely know what it means yet, but it would probably be all over the newspapers if people knew the Boy Who Lived was cursed.”  Rosie scowled as she imagined the situation.  Romulus silently thought that he didn’t exactly talk to anyone, other than Primrose or Remus.  Who would he even tell?

****

 “Anyway, apparently even Professor Dumbledore knows that Harry is cursed.  Isn’t that weird?” Rosie asked. “I mean, I know he was close to my parents - especially during the last war.  But - then why didn’t tell Harry about it?  I don’t even know if Sirius knows.”

****

Rosie sighed.  She was getting a bit off track.  “Well - where was I?  Hm - I started reading about curses, and I’ve been - well, I - I think Harry might be possessed.  But I’m not sure!  To be honest, that’s what I’m trying to figure out.  And to make it even more confusing, I spoke to Harry’s friends - actually, I just spoke to Neville yesterday - and neither of them think anything’s wrong with Harry.  It makes me feel like I don’t know what to believe.  Anyway, I’ve looked up a bunch of spells and rituals to detect possessions.  There’s potions too, but I don’t know how I can get Harry to drink a potion, so I scrapped that idea.”

****

 “Potions?” Romulus asked.  He was interested in what Rosie had to say before, but he was even more interested now.  “May I see the recipes?”

****

 “The book is in the library.  Though - did you know that you can ask for books in the Come and Go room?”  

****

Romulus was aware that the Come and Go room fulfilled requests, but he had never actually attempted asking it for books.  He filed away that piece of information for later.  “You don’t have to make your brother drink potions.  There are spells that allow you to send potions into someone’s stomach directly.  It’s how healers they give potions to patients who are unconscious and cannot be woken with  _ rennervate _ .”

****

 “Really?  Wow, I need to ask Madam Pomfrey about that.  But - wait - if you could spell potions into someone’s stomach, couldn’t you also do that with poisons?” The idea of someone using a charm to put something in her stomach suddenly made her feel queasy.

****

 “Not with healing magic.  The spells were created with very specific safeguards, and can only work if you have a strong intent to help a person.  The spells also have safeguards against accidentally poisoning someone.  But - there are dark magic spells that can bypass that,” Romulus explained.

****

Rosie nodded as she considered the information.  “Hm - if that’s the case, then potions might be a viable option for discovering what might be possessing Harry.  Well - if he is possessed.  Luna is teaching me how to create the runic circle that detects if more than one spirit inhabits a body.  She has a really extensive understanding of Runes.  It’s really amazing!”

****

Romulus nodded.  He was looking away from her, and Rosie could tell that he was lost in his own thoughts.  He was probably thinking about potions.  She didn’t think that Romulus would want to involve himself in anything related to Harry, but her conversation with him had opened up new avenues.  Discovering that it was possible to send potions direction into a person’s stomach meant that she now had more options available to her.  The knowledge gave Rosie a small spark of optimism, and increased her determination to solve the problem on her hands.

****

The day after her conversation with Romulus was a Thursday that Rosie realized she had neglected to call Sirius for over a week.  The previous week, her conversation with Harry had been so deeply upsetting that she had not been in the frame of mind to have speak to her godfather.  Though she was still unhappy about Harry, she did want to speak to Sirius.  She hoped he wouldn’t be too upset that she forgot to call him.  Sirius may have been rather irresponsible and with a devil-may-care attitude, but he also loved Harry and Rosie deeply, and he enjoyed staying connected with his godchildren.

****

Rather than wandering off to the spot where she and Harry usually called Sirius, she went up to her dorm room and called him from her bed.  Almost immediately, his face appeared on the rectangular mirror.

****

  “Pup!” He exclaimed.  “Is everything alright?”

****

  “I’m sorry I didn’t call you last week!  It’s been a bit crazy.”

****

  “What happened?”

****

  “Well - it’s hard to explain.”  In fact, she couldn’t bring herself to share her suspicious with Sirius.  She was afraid of finding out how he would react.  Would he doubt her?  Or would he become so worried that he’d drop everything and come straight to Hogwarts?

****

 “Harry’s busy again?” Sirius asked, noticing the blue and bronze background.

****

Rosie nodded and gave Sirius a weak smile.  “Yeah.  He’s - pretty popular these days.”

****

Sirius grinned.  “Sounds like he’s got more of Prongs in him than just his looks!”

****

 “Or maybe he takes after you.  After all, you were pretty popular yourself, back in Hogwarts.” Her words felt a bit hollow, but Sirius had a pretty big ego and it was amusing to tease him about it.

****

 “Well - no sense in denying it.”  Sirius gave her a cocky smile, and when Rosie smiled in return, it was with genuine amusement and warmth.  “What about you pup?  How have you been?”

****

 “I’ve been learning a lot of interesting things.”  She didn’t want to discuss her anxieties, and it seemed like a neutral enough response.

****

Sirius sighed.  “Ravenclaws.  You’re no fun.”

****

Rosie laughed.  “You just don’t appreciate the charms of the library.”

****

  “Of course not!  We never let us back in after we - uh -”

****

  “Set fire to those books?”  Rosie grinned and shook her head.  “I can’t believe I have a godfather who desecrates books.”

****

Sirius shrugged, but there was a proud gleam in his eyes.  “Oh!  There was something I wanted to tell you!”  Sirius had a wide and eager smile.  Obviously, it was good news.

****

 “What?” 

****

 “Moony and I are partners now!  He agreed to work with me on my Marauders projects!”

****

 “What?  Really?  He never told me about this, and we write each other every week!” Rosie exclaimed.

****

 “That’s because he just agreed.  I’ve been on his case since - well Christmas.  He was pretty stubborn - he kept saying he didn’t want any sort of charity.  How is it charity to offer someone work?  It’s not like I was offering him galleons for nothing.”  Sirius huffed.  “Anyway, I showed him my workshop, and all the projects that I had to set aside because I couldn’t seem to get them quite right.  Moony was always better at charms than I was.  I think seeing all my work convinced him that I actually needed the help.”  A mischievous gleam appeared in Sirius’s eyes.  Rosie could see that he was already mentally planning all the trouble he could cause with all his new projects.  Especially once it came time to test them.  When she returned home for the holidays, she would have to make sure to be extra vigilant.

****

 “That’s really exciting, Padfoot!  When does he start?”

****

 “He’ll be coming by later today.  He’s been coming by here a lot.”  Sirius’s expression was suddenly warm.  “I’m - well, I’m really glad you wrote him, pup.  I’m really glad we had a chance to reconnect.”

****

Rosie felt a glow radiating from her chest.  “I’m glad too.”  They spent the rest of the conversation talking about trivialities.  Sirius promised to send her some of his projects once they were ready for testing.  Rosie kept trying to convince him that she didn’t have the heart to prank other students.  Of course, Sirius would hear none of it.  After she had asked him for the Crupcake back in December, he was convinced that she was a true Marauder.  In the end, it was easier to simply relent.  Perhaps some of the prototypes could come in handy.  After all, this was Hogwarts.  Anything could happen.

****

It had initially felt strange for Rosie to be following Harry around under the invisibility cloak.  Admittedly, it had also felt strange to be sneaking out after curfew, and even if she wasn’t caught, she felt mildly guilty about it.  She wasn’t even doing anything  _ bad _ at night - just scouting out the area around the entrance to the Gryffindor Tower so that she could decide how she wanted to eventually lay out the runic circle once she fully grasped its creation.  

****

As for following her brother, Rosie had felt the need to spend more time observing Harry in order to see if she could detect any changes in him.  She also hoped to discover what he was up to (assuming he was up to something).  The Harry she had encountered during the black out in their link had been so unsettling that she had avoided him, but now, she felt like that avoidance had been a mistake.  She should have been paying more attention to him instead.  If she had paid more attention, then perhaps she would have solved the problem by how.  However, there was no sense regretting the past.  She was determined to get to the root of whatever it was that was affecting Harry.

****

Like a true Ravenclaw, she saw herself not as an adventurer or spy, but as a researcher, making observations in the field.  She took note of who he spoke to, and where he went.  But while Harry did speak to a great deal of people, he never actually seemed to do anything that was overtly suspicious.  What Rosie had failed to account for was that the feathered serpent Sephtis had caught scent of her, and warned Harry whenever she was near.  If she had realized that, she would have chosen a different method to learn what Harry was doing.

****

However, her efforts weren't entirely wasted.  She gained a sense of Harry’s habits and schedule.  If she ever needed to cast a spell at him, she knew alcoves that she could hide in.  If she opted to use a runic framework, she was aware of the places that he frequented often.  Nonetheless, following Harry around was a tiresome ordeal.  Whether their link was blacked out or not, Harry generally seemed pretty ordinary, aside from his new found sociability, which made it seem like everyone wanted to talk to him.


	22. Chapter 22

It was Friday evening, and Rosie was feeling physically worn out from her training session with Romulus earlier in the afternoon.  He had made a new rule that she wasn’t permitted to use any offensive spells - only defensive spells, which meant that more often than not, she found herself feeling the brunt of the golem’s attacks and Romulus’s jinxes.  

****

For nearly the entire day, her link to Harry was blacked out, but to her frustration, she couldn’t seem to discover anything useful about Harry.  Luna was slowly teaching her the steps to the circular runic pattern that she intended to place in front of the Gryffindor common room, but things that seemed obvious to Luna were challenging for Rosie to grasp.  Despite the difficulties, she was making progress, and she was able to craft more than half of the circle on her own.  Once she was able to definitely establish that Harry was possessed, she knew the next steps she needed to take.  

****

Rosie was on her way to the infirmary for her lessons with Madam Pomfrey, and had wanted to ask the matron about spells that could send potions directly to a person’s stomach.  While there weren’t too many potions that could be used to detect possessing spirits, potions were involved in most of the spirit expulsion rituals.  And considering that she had seen Romulus reading the book related to possessions, she knew that he would likely be more than willing to brew the potions for her if she needed them.  Even if she didn’t ask, she could imagine Romulus wanting to brew the potions just for the fun of it.

****

As she was climbing down a flight of stairs, she caught sight of Toby one of the hallways, and frowned.  He seemed to be speaking to someone, and as the person turned and she saw his profile, she realized it was Harry.  She froze in place, staring in surprise, and Toby seemed to have noticed her because a mocking smile crossed his lips.  Flushing angrily, Rosie turned a corner so that she was no longer in their line of sight.  She was tempted to take out her invisibility cloak and backtrack, so that she could hear what the two of them were talking about.  This was the second time she had caught Harry talking to Toby.  Admittedly, the first time, she wasn’t a hundred percent certain that it had been Toby, but this time, it was definitely Toby.  And she was almost entirely certain that it was Harry he was talking to.  She had gotten a pretty good look at the dark haired boy’s profile, and it looked just like Harry - surely, she knew her own brother’s face.

****

Feeling like she couldn’t let the opportunity pass, she pulled the invisibility cloak out of her bookbag and draped it over herself.  Quietly, she crept back around the corner towards the hall where she had seen Toby and Harry speaking.  To her disappointment, both of them had left.  Rosie sighed in frustration.  She wandered further up the hall, but there was no sign of either of the boys.  Taking off the invisibility cloak, she stuffed it back into her bag, and headed back towards the infirmary.  Not wanting to spend the whole evening in a state of restless agitation, she mentally repeated her mantra of  _ blank and empty, blank and empty _ until she was reasonably calm and centred.

****

When she arrived at the hospital wing, Madam Pomfrey was with a patient.  The matron gave Rosie a warm smile as she entered, and then returned her attention to the student, who sat on the edge of one of the hospital beds.  Casting a charm to disinfect her clothes and hands, Rosie walked up to Madam Pomfrey and the student, who was a Slytherin third-year.  As Madam Pomfrey’s pre-apprentice, Rosie was a familiar face to many of the students who frequented the infirmary, so the Slytherin did not regard her with too much suspicion as Rosie drew near.

****

 “Hello Miss Potter.  Miss Accrington, this is my pre-apprentice.  She is helping me out,” the matron informed the Slytherin girl.  “Miss Potter will cast a diagnosis charm on you while I get you your potion.”

****

The Slytherin nodded and then looked over at Rosie.  The girl’s gaze was guarded, but that seemed to be a normal Slytherin expression.  In general, Slytherins were rather untrusting of others, and they never felt comfortable allowing unfamiliar people to cast spells on them.

****

 “Hello.  I’m Primrose.  I’m going to cast the spell now.”  Miss Accrington nodded hesitantly in response.

****

As Rosie cast the charm, she felt the familiar sensation of the other student’s emotions at the back of her head and neck.  She could see a dark, greyish haze in the student’s mind.  Rosie knew that grey as well as silver usually meant that the patient was dealing with a mental illness.  She wouldn’t have been able to discern more, but since she could feel the other girl’s emotions, she was aware of the deep sense of melancholy, and hopelessness that the girl felt.  Immediately, Rosie was sure that Slytherin was troubled by depression.

****

Though Rosie knew nothing about Miss Accrington, she felt an intense wave of empathy.  In the same way that she didn’t like seeing animals suffering, she also didn’t like seeing the suffering of witches and wizards.  Moreover, Rosie’s own unhappiness regarding her situation with Harry meant that she was especially sensitive towards the unhappiness of others.  Without realizing what she was doing, her magic reached towards the greyness, and Rosie found herself deeply wishing to alleviate Miss Accrington’s unhappiness.  Oddly, the grey seem to clarify in to well defined shapes.  Rosie didn’t know what the shapes meant - it took years of learning to be able to read the shapes in a basic diagnosis charm.  However, her magic seemed to intuitively weave around the shapes, fitting in place like the pieces of a puzzle.  Even stranger, the greyness began to fade away, even though Rosie knew that effects of the diagnosis charm were still lingering.

****

A curious look came over Miss Accrington’s face.  “What did you do?” 

****

The question snapped Rosie back to the present moment, and she looked down at her wrist, where her bracelet was giving off a cold, tingly feeling.  What had just happened?

****

 “Erm - I just cast a basic diagnosis charm,” Rosie replied, feeling a bit dazed, and curiously more tired than ever before.

****

  “Are you sure?” Miss Accrington asked.  “I feel different.  I feel -”  The corners of Miss Accrington’s lips turned up, and the girl shook her head.  “This is weird.”

****

They were interrupted by the return of Madam Pomfrey, with a potion in hand.  “Here you are dear.”  The matron handed the tall phial to the Slytherin.

****

  “I - I think she did something to me,” Miss Accrington said to Madam Pomfrey.  The matron looked at Rosie curiously before turning back to the Slytherin.

****

 “She cast a basic diagnosis spell.  You shouldn’t have felt anything.  You didn’t cast anything else, did you Miss Potter?”  The matron gave Rosie a searching look.

****

 “No, of course not!  I only casted  _ Egritudo _ .  But - something happened, and my bracelet went cold,”  Rosie looked back at her wrist.  Despite her tiredness, she got the impression that she had drained the charge that she had been storing up in the stones.  It was hard to believe how quickly the charge disappeared.  Infusing the stones with magic had taken such a long, long time.  Madam Pomfrey seemed baffled by this.  She looked back at Miss Accrington and cast another diagnosis charm. The matron’s eyes widened in surprise.

****

 “It’s - it’s almost entirely gone!”  Madam Pomfrey exclaimed.  “Could - could I have made a mistake the first time?  But no - you told me your symptoms, so it can’t have been a mistake.”

****

 “What’s going on?” Rosie asked.

****

 “So, did she actually do something to me?” Miss Accrington asked. “I feel so - so, light.  Am I okay?”  Despite her questions, there was a strange brightness in the Slytherin girl’s eyes.

****

  “I don’t know what happened,” the matron admitted. “But it seemed that Miss Potter did you no harm.  If anything, she seems to have caused your depressiveness to almost entirely dissipate.  The only explanation I can think of is that she healed you with some sort of accidental magic.”

****

 “She - cured me?” Miss Accrington’s voice was almost a squeak of surprise.  A smile kept tugging at the edge of the girl’s lips, as though an irrepressible happiness was bubbling up within her.  The Slytherin looked at Rosie with shining eyes.

****

Pursing her lips, Madam Pomfrey cast the diagnosis charm once more.  “Yes, it seems like it has cleared up.  It’s - well, it’s remarkable.  Even the potion would have only provided a temporary measure at best.”  Madam Pomfrey looked at Rosie consideringly before looking back at Miss Accrington.  “I suppose you won’t need the potion anymore.”

****

The Slytherin girl grinned, and then tried to force back her expression into a semblance of calmness.  It wouldn’t do to wander back into the Slytherin dungeon with a dopey grin on her face.  She’d never hear the end of it.

****

  “Thank you,” Miss Accrington said to Madam Pomfrey and Rosie.  The matron nodded, and the girl sprang up and dashed out of the infirmary.  When the Slytherin was gone, Madam Pomfrey glanced over at Rosie.

****

 “Are you alright Miss Potter?” 

****

 “I feel a lot more tired,” Rosie admitted.  She was ready to crawl into bed.

****

 “I believe you’re magically drained.  Whatever you did took a lot of magical energy.  It’s best you head back to your room for the night,” the matron said gently.  “We can discuss it next time.”

****

 “Oh - alright.”  Rosie turned to leave before she remembered that she wanted to ask Madam Pomfrey about the charm that spelled potions into a person’s stomach.  After questioning Madam Pomfrey about it, the matron gave an exasperated sigh before going into her office and finding a relevant book for Rosie to bring back to her room.

****

 “Take these as well,” Madam Pomfrey said, handing Rosie a couple of extra books that related to mind healing.  Her eyes widened with intellectual excitement as she noticed the titles.

****

Rosie grinned tiredly.  “Thank you!”

****

 “Off to bed now!” The Matron shooed her away affectionately.

****

Saturday was a relatively uneventful day.  Rosie spent most of it in the Ravenclaw Nest or the library, working on her assignments.  She also read about the process of using a charm to put a potion in a person’s stomach.  Unsurprisingly, it was quite a difficult spell - after all, it involved putting something external inside another person’s body.  There was a great deal that could go wrong with the spell, and the risks were very high for the patient.  It was generally not advised to use the spell on a person who was mobile.  Even in cases, where the patient was suffering seizures or were in some other way impaired, it was recommended that the person first be immobilized before attempting to put potions in their stomachs.

****

Rosie also spent more time with Luna in the Come and Go room, trying to master the next steps of the runic circle which detected multiple spirits in a single body.  Luna had a very extensive understanding and strong grasp of runes.  However, she was far from being the typical sort of tutor or teacher.  Rather than explaining concepts in a straight-forward manner, Luna tended to use metaphors or stories to illustrate ideas.  She had a way of describing the concepts so that it sounded as though she were talking about something entirely unrelated, however, once you deciphered her meaning, the concept suddenly became clear.

****

With Luna, one had to really think about everything she said, and absorb all her words.  Her lessons felt like navigating through a mental maze.  Yet, once Rosie understood what Luna was trying to say, she found that the runes and their related configurations remained in her memory better than if she had heard a straight-forward explanation.

****

Sunday was the fourteenth, and Rosie would have completely forgotten that it was Valentine's day however, when she and the other Ravenclaws made their way down to the Great Hall for breakfast, their eyes were assailed with every conceivable shade of pink.  The walls of the great hall were covered were large pink flowers, that could only be described as gaudy.  The long tables were edged with pink and white streamers.  From the sky-like ceiling fell heart-shaped confetti, which twinkled as it caught the light, and also had the unfortunate effect of coating every surface that it landed on.  All through the Great Hall, students were brushing the sparkly hearts off their food, or out of their hair.

****

Since it was a Sunday, many students had chosen to sleep in, and when Rosie glanced towards the Head Table, she noticed many of the professors were absent.  If Rosie had known what she would have had to face upon entering the Great Hall, she probably would have stayed away as well.  She liked the colour pink, but frankly, this was just too much pink.  Only a few professors were at the Head Table, such as Professor Flitwick, Professor Sheppard, and Professor Sprout.  Their expressions clearly spelled out their consternation.  Evidently, none of them were responsible for the garish decorations.

****

It wasn’t until lunch that Rosie (and the rest of the students) learned who was responsible.  At the Head Table, Professor Lockhart was dressed in pink dueling robes that were clearly picked out to match the decorations.  Once all the students were seated, Professor Lockhart stood up, and gave the students his signature smile.

****

 “Happy Valentine's Day!” Lockhart called out.  “I’d like to thank the fifty-one students who have sent me cards so far.  I have taken the liberty of arranging this surprise for all of you.  But this isn’t all!  I’m sure you’re wondering why I have chosen to wear such dashing dueling robes today.  Well, behold!”

****

Professor Lockhart raised his arm up to direct the student’s attention to the pink and red banner that was unfurling across the back wall of the Great Hall.  The banner read: Lovers & Fighters.

****

 “Lovers and Fighters!  That is to be the theme of our lovely Valentine’s.  Think of Arthur and Guinevere, or Tristan and Iseult.  Consider Diarmuid and Grainne or Odysseus and Penelope.”  Lockhart paused dramatically, and swept his gaze across the room.  Rosie looked across the table at Sakiko and Edine who were gazing at the Professor with rapt and adoring expressions.  Romulus seemed completely determined to ignore the foppish professor, while Luna was busy collecting a pile of heart shaped confetti.  What she meant to do with it, Rosie couldn’t begin to guess.

****

 “Well!” Lockhart continued.  “I’d like to announce that this evening, we shall be having the first meeting of our new dueling club!  Yes, yes, I know it is rather late in the term to begin a new club, but the romance of the season has inspired me.  All students are welcome to join, and it will be at 8 o’clock, here in the Great Hall.  Of course, there’s no reason to hesitate if you want to come and watch me display my immense and commendable skills.  Professor Snape here has graciously volunteered to help.”  

****

Lockhart gestured to Professor Snape with a wide sweeping movement that caused his cape to billow dramatically.  “I imagine that few of you would have ever guessed that therein beats the heart of a true romantic!”  Professor Snape’s expression was decidedly unromantic.  If anything, he looked like he would prefer to be ripping hearts out, than making them flutter, starting with Lockhart himself.

****

Professor Lockhart’s announcement caused a flurry of excitement and bewilderment throughout the Great Hall.  The idea of a dueling club was undoubtedly enticing for many, but for every student that was enamoured with Lockhart, there were just as many who found him to be mortifyingly incompetent.  Aside from a Quidditch match later in the month, there wasn’t really all that much to do in February or March.  A new club would certainly draw a lot of students who would go simply to sate their curiosity. 

****

Rosie looked over at Romulus and he caught her eyes.  Silently, she gave him a look that said: ‘What do you think?’  Romulus shrugged.  The pair of them had spent a few months honing their fighting skills, but the idea of being able to duel other students rather than golems was enticing.  As much as they both disliked Lockhart, it was still a good opportunity to try their new found skills on real people.

****

Rosie turned to Luna.  “Do you want to go?”

****

Luna’s expression was thoughtful before nodding.  “It will be interesting to see Professor Lockhart trying to smile his way out of a duel with Professor Snape.”

****

Rosie grinned.  “Well, Lockhart did win Witch Weekly’s Most Charming Smile Award. Maybe if he smiles hard enough, Professor Snape will just stun him, instead of killing him.”  Rosie peeked over at the Head Table towards the Potions Master.  “If he ever looked at me like that, I’d run, or fly, or floo as far as I could possibly go.”

****

It was far from being a peaceful Sunday.  Somehow, Professor Lockhart had managed to hire a bunch of dwarfs, dressed as cupids to deliver romantic messages.  All throughout the school, one could hear poems being read in tones of surly announce, or even the occasional off-tune melody, accompanied by a lyre.  Rosie had long given up the idea of getting a moment’s peace in the library, and was about to head back to the Ravenclaw Nest, when she unexpectedly ran into Harry right outside the library.

****

She had not been expecting to see her brother at all.  Their link had been blacked out for nearly the entire day, and her experiences with observing him under the invisibility cloak had turned up nothing useful.  Rosie had been spending more energy on trying to learn the runic circle, which made her feel like she was making progress.

****

As soon as Rosie’s saw Harry, her eyes widened in surprise.  He looked like he was carrying a bright red book, but upon closer inspection, Rosie saw that it was a stack of Valentines.  Apparently, her brother’s newfound popularity translated to receiving a great deal of cards.  Her first thought was: ‘he doesn’t have the same intensity as the last time when the link was black’ which was followed by relief.  She didn’t think she could deal with that - at least, not without first steeling her nerves.

****

 “Hi Rosie!” Harry said cheerfully. 

****

  “Hey, Harry.”  It was strange that he suddenly seemed normal again, except that their link was blacked out.  Who was this Harry?  What had happened to all of that strange intensity that she felt before?

****

 “I’ve been meaning to speak to you.  Do you have a moment?” her brother asked.  His expression showed the warm, familiar face she was used to.  But at the same time, the black out in her link reminded her to act with caution.  Her stomach flip flopped.  It was hard to stay calm, when she just wanted her brother back. 

****

 “Sure.”

****

 “Let’s go talk somewhere quiet.  The dwarves are kinda out of control, aren’t they?”  Harry chuckled with amusement.

****

Rosie smiled weakly.  “Yeah - I’m guessing by that stack of cards that you’ve been stalked by cupids all day?”

****

Harry looked down at the stack of cards in his hand, and his ears pinkened.  He gave Rosie a sheepish smile.

****

 ‘Merlin, why doe he have to seem so normal?’ Rosie thought with dismay.  ‘If he’s possessed, shouldn’t he be acting weird and intense like last time?  And where’s his entourage of Gryffindors?’

****

 “Let’s go to our normal spot,” Harry said, referring to the alcove where they usually called Sirius.  Rosie nodded in agreement, and let her brother lead the way.

****

Once they were settled, Harry looked at Rosie with an earnest expression.  “Listen - Rosie - I’m really sorry about last time.  I - well, I was stressed about things, and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you like that.”

****

Rosie had considered many possibilities of what Harry might say to her.  And yet, out of all the possibilities that Rosie had imagined, this was not one of them.  She was stunned into silence.  Some dark, cynical part of herself wondered if he was somehow lying.  After all, this was black out Harry - she couldn’t feel what he was feeling.  Was it all an act?  And yet, Harry looked so genuinely regretful. 

****

 “I know I’ve been distant lately.  I didn’t mean to push you away.  I - well, you’re my sister.  And you know me in a way that no one else does,” Harry continued.  “It would be nice if we could hang out more together.  Although, if I’ve completely bungled things up, I can understand if you don’t want to be around me.”  Harry bit his lower lip, and looked at her.

****

 ‘Is that - is he really giving me the puppy dog look?’ Rosie thought.  ‘Surely, he knows that I never fall for it.’  Yet, there seemed to be a twinkle in Harry’s eyes, as though he did know, and it was all a playful joke.  The expression was so familiar, that she wanted to throw all her worries to the wind, and believe what Harry was saying.  Instead, she forced herself to maintain her distance.  Her Ravenclaw personality told her to watch and observe (and take notes later).

****

 “It’s not that I don’t want to be around you, Harry,” Rosie began hesitantly.  “Of course I like spending time with you.  But - well - you say you’ve been stressed and distant lately, but the thing is, you’ve been strange for months.  Half the time, I feel like I don’t even know you.”

****

Harry looked hurt by her words.  He opened his mouth, as if to speak, but then seemed to change his mind.  

****

 “I mean, with our link, I keep getting these black outs.  Even now, the link is blacked out.  It doesn’t feel normal, Harry.  And I know it wasn’t there before.  I didn’t start feeling anything strange in our link until late September, and it seems like you started to change at the same time.  And don’t tell me it’s all in my head.  I know it’s not.”  Rosie’s expression was stubborn as she spoke.

****

 “What do the black outs feel like?” Harry asked.  Rosie had not expected the question at all.  She thought he would perhaps come up with some sort of rationalization or brush off the issue.  In her frame of mind, she kept waiting for the worst to happen.  To be met with Harry’s open curiosity threw her off balance, when she was already feeling off balance.

****

 “Erm - well - it feels like a blackness.  It feels like something that’s  _ there _ , like - a foreign presence maybe.  It’s nothing like how the link feels when you’re asleep.  When I try and explore the blackness, it feels like it goes on forever.  I went into it once - that is, I sat down, and mentally made an effort to explore the blackness.  I thought it had only been a few minutes, but Luna woke me and told me I had been sitting there for two hours.”

****

 “Really?” Harry asked.  “That’s - weird.  And kinda scary.”

****

 “Yes!  It is weird and it’s definitely scary.  Harry - I really think something is wrong.  Don’t you remember when I did that diagnosis spell on you, and you said it hurt?  It’s not supposed to hurt.  And - well - I also saw the actual blackness.”

****

 “What do you mean?”

****

 “I mean - well, the basic diagnosis charm works by showing colours, and I saw blackness.  It means - you’re cursed.”  Rosie examined Harry’s face, trying to gauge his expression.  He looked bewildered and troubled.

****

 “You mentioned that last time, didn’t you?  When I was being a total arse.”  Harry was looking down at his hands, looking regretful.  He emitted a weak laugh but it was a nervous gesture.  “I’m almost scared to find out.  But - well - I think I need to hear it.  Tell me about the curse.”

****

 “Apparently, your scar is cursed.  And Professor Dumbledore knows about it,” Rosie began.

****

There seemed to be a flicker of something in Harry’s eyes when she mentioned the headmaster, but as quickly as it came, it disappeared.  “Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

****

 “I don’t know.  I didn’t find out until fairly recently.  I don’t even know what the curse does!”  Rosie huffed.  “But I’ve been trying to find out.  Harry - I know I asked you some weird questions last time, but is the thing is, there’s a chance you might be possessed.  Have you noticed anything different?  Do you do have any gaps in your memories or anything?

****

 “Possessed!” Harry exclaimed.  “I - well, no, I don’t think I’ve noticed anything strange.  But it’s been a weird year - I mean, with students being petrified, and then the snake bite prank, and then that whole hex fight.  A lot has been going on.”  Harry shook his head.  “Possessed.  Wow.  What - what led you to think that?”

****

 “I don’t know for sure.  Not yet, anyway.”

****

 “Not yet?”   
  


 “I’m planning to find out.  The thing is - well, I’ve been doing it behind your back, since you’ve been so different lately, but I’m working on a way to detect whether or not you actually are possessed,” Rosie explained.

****

Harry seemed interested.  “Really?  Is there anything I can do to help?  Maybe if you tell me what you’re working on, I can help you with it.”

****

 “Really?  You want to help?”  Rosie was stunned.  Harry was so nice all of a sudden!  And yet - and yet the link was still blacked out.  But if Harry was possessed, wouldn’t he try to hinder her efforts?  Maybe he intended to sabotage her?  She felt guilty for thinking this way about her brother, and yet, she felt like she had good reason to.

****

 “Yeah, I’ll help however I can,” Harry replied with bright eagerness.  Rosie bit her lip thoughtfully.  It would be easier of Harry participated, but she didn’t trust him to create the runic framework, or cast any of the spells himself.

****

 “Well, Luna and I almost have it entirely figured out.  But, once we’ve made the runic circle, will you come and stand in it?”  Rosie thought that sounded safe enough.  She would treat it as some sort of test.  If he was possessed, then surely, the spirit wouldn’t want to risk detection.

****

 “Sure,” Harry agreed easily.  Rosie had no idea what to make of his quick assent.  At this point, she had no idea of what to make of Harry in general.  She had thought the conversation had ended, but to her surprise, Harry suggested a call to Sirius.  Over the Christmas break, Harry had never blacked out while they were in Grimmauld Place, so Sirius had never spoken to Harry like this.  During the call, Harry continued to act with mundane normality, and Sirius did not notice anything amiss.   However, Sirius did tease Harry about his new popularity (“It’s like you don’t have time for your old godfather anymore, pup!”)  

****

After the rather long call, and just as Harry was about to leave, something occurred to Rosie.  She reached out and grabbed on to the sleeve of his robe.

****

 “Harry - would you be willing to come down to the infirmary and let Madam Pomfrey do a diagnosis spell on you?  With the whole curse thing - well - you know -” Rosie trailed off uneasily.  Whether he agreed to this or not was an unspoken test.  What would Harry say?  Rosie watched her brother’s face carefully.  Something that she couldn’t identify flashed across his eyes, but as quick as it came, it was gone, and he smiled.

****

 “Sure!  What about this evening?  After the dueling club.”

****

 “Really?” She asked.  “Okay.  Yes!  Yes, That works.”  Rosie found herself grinning, and she released her hold on his robe.  “See you later then!”

****

Harry grinned.  “Looking forward to it.  I can’t wait to see what Snape does to Lockhart.”  Rosie wholeheartedly agreed.

****

Since it was Sunday, Rosie still had a training session in the Come and Go Room with Romulus that afternoon.  She usually liked the sessions, but ever since Romulus stopped allowing her to use offensive spells, she found it much more challenging.  She didn’t know why defensive spells were so difficult for her - perhaps it was just because some part of her thought that physically dodging was so much easier, and she wanted to save her magical energy for attacks.

****

She was in the Ravenclaw Nest, about to head towards the Come and Go Room when the common room door opened, catching her unaware. Toby and his friends entered, and Toby’s gaze alighted upon Rosie.

****

  “Ah, just the person I was looking for,” Toby said as soon as he saw her.  Though she was tempted to scowl, Rosie pasted a smile on her face instead.  She flicked a glance at Samir, who gave her a small sympathetic shrug, before looking back at Toby.  As much as she wanted to avoid the fourth year boy, he made it near impossible to do so.  Yet, every time he spoke to her, Rosie knew that he was further fueling Marietta’s and Sarah’s hatred for her.  The end result was that she could never truly relax anywhere, unless there were other people around.

****

 “Hello, Tobs.  Happy Valentine’s Day,” Rosie said, with saccharine sweetness.  As she glanced at the dark, cat-like face, she couldn’t help but wonder how he would have treated her, if he hadn’t been ‘warned off.’  Who was powerful enough to be looking out for her?  Could it be one of the teachers?

****

 “Happy Valentine’s Day to you, little one.”  He held out his hand and conjured a stem with three blooming yellow and white flowers on the end of it.  “A primrose for my little Primrose.”

****

 “Erm - thanks, Tobs,”  Rosie took the stem, looked at the flowers as though wondering whether or not they would bite.  “Oh - actually, there was something I wanted to ask you.”  Rosie debated whether or not to ask for a moment in private.  She wanted to know why Toby was speaking to Harry, but at the same time, she really didn’t want to be alone with Toby.  Seeming to guess her dilemma, Toby waved off his friends, and then led her aside so that they weren’t standing directly in front of the common room entrance.

****

  “Well?”  he asked.  Away from his friends, the mocking expression on his face intensified.  The dark, predatory gleam in his eyes made a chill run down her spine.  Steeling her nerves, she tilted up her chin.

****

 “I saw you talking to my brother,” Rosie said, replacing the sugariness in her voice with a flat, calmness.  “Why were you speaking to him?”  She didn’t reveal that she wasn’t a hundred percent sure whether they had actually spoke or not.  Rosie had no desire to show more weakness than was necessary.

****

Toby’s lips curled in dark amusement.  “How odd that you’re asking me this, and not your dear brother.  One would think that he would be the first person you’d ask.”

****

 “I did ask Harry,” Rosie replied.  She crossed her arms, and looked at Toby expectantly.

****

Toby smirked, and leaned his side against the wall of the common room.  He seemed to be deliberating, and watching her expression.  Then, with a light sigh, he looked away from her, and examined his nails, as if bored.

****

 “Harry’s an interesting person.  I happen to like interesting people.  They’re very rare.”  Toby shrugged lightly.

****

Rosie frowned.  Toby’s answer told her exactly nothing.  Before she could ask him another question, Toby spoke: “You know, he did mention you.”  Looking away from his nails, Toby pinned her down with his dark eyes.  “He said that you have a very rare ability.  But he wouldn’t tell me what it was.  Have I ever mentioned how much I like rare things?  Perhaps it’s a family thing - we have a history with handling the rare and mysterious.”

****

Toby’s words brought back a memory of something that Mathilda had once said, which had stuck in her mind - that is, that Toby’s father was rumoured to work in the Department of Mysteries.  Rosie had filed away that piece of information, and Toby’s comment suddenly made her wonder if it was indeed true. 

****

 “I’m not really anything special,” Rosie said.  From her readings and research, she knew that empathic abilities were extremely rare, but she had no desire for Toby to know that.  She didn’t think he could use it against her, but then again, this was Toby.  If half of what Samir said was true, then it was better to remain cautious.

****

 “Hm.  I don’t expect you to tell me.”  Toby suddenly straightened, and then bent over, so that his face was all too close to her own.  The proximity of it was disturbing.  It reminded her of their first encounter, and just as before, it took a great deal of willpower not to flinch or back away.

****

 “I prefer discovering such things on my own.  It’s much more fun that way.  Anyway, it’s nearly 3 o’clock.  Don’t you have somewhere you need to be?”

****

Rosie’s eye’s widened.  She was supposed to be meeting Romulus!  Scowling, she turned away from Toby, and dashed out of the common room.  Behind her, she could hear his soft, mocking laughter.

****

Rosie was huffing and out of breath by the time she made it to the Come and Go Room.  Romulus, who was standing in the seventh floor corridor, raised his eyebrows, as Rosie hunched over, trying to catch her breath.  Consider what had happened the last time she failed to show up to one of the training sessions, he had been about to go looking for her, expecting the worse.  However, as he gave her a look over, she seemed to be fine.  Though he did not openly express it, he was relieved to see her safe.

****

 “Just give a moment,” Rosie said.  After so many flights of stairs, she wasn’t quite ready to spend an hour running from golems, and being jinxed by Romulus.  Romulus shook his head and sighed.  In a real crisis, one might not have the opportunity to catch one’s breath, but he didn’t reprimand her about it.

****

 “I looked over those potions,” Romulus said.  

****

Rosie looked up at him, and straightened up.  She was trying to think of what he might be referring to, when she remembered that she had mentioned potions in relation to possessions.  Though, considering how ambiguous the statement was, maybe he was talking about something he was working on with Professor Snape.  It seemed like a good idea to clarify.

****

 “Do you mean the one’s related to possession?”  Rosie asked.  Romulus nodded.

****

 “Oh.  I spoke to Madam Pomfrey about the spell that lets you send potions directly to someone’s stomach.  It’s an extremely dangerous and risky spell.  Though -” She paused and thought.  “Though I guess almost all the spirit banishing rituals require potions.”

****

Romulus shrugged.  He was tempted to just make the potions for fun, but some of the ingredients were costly.  It would be better to wait and see what Primrose actually needed before he attempted to brew anything.  Though, if cost were no object, he’d brew them all.  Since she seemed to be close to breathing normally, he summoned the training room, and opened the door into the maze-like setting.  He glanced at Rosie who smiled weakly, causing Romulus to smirk.  She was still terrible at defensive magic, and he with silent amusement, he knew he was going to enjoy jinxing her.

****

After an hour had passed, in which Rosie was bruised from being tripped so many times, she asked Romulus if he intended to go to the dueling club meeting that evening.

****

Romulus frowned slightly.  He wanted to practice his skills against others, but at the same time, he really did not enjoy being around other people.  Yet, it was a rare opportunity that could prove useful in increasing his skills.  He nodded.

****

Rosie grinned.  “Great!  I can’t wait to duel something other than golems.  See you there?”  Romulus nodded.

****

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

****

Severus Snape had decided that his new least favourite colour was pink.  He had also come to the decision that his new least favourite person (at the moment) was Gilderoy Lockhart.  Of course, Lockhart didn’t rank as his least favourite person of all time.  That illustrious title went to James Potter, followed closely by Sirius Black.  It was unnerving, but Harry Potter seemed to no longer rank very high in terms of people he disliked.  Of course, he still disliked Potter, but not with the simmering antipathy that he once felt.

****

Many people would have seen this as a good thing.  Perhaps they might think that he was letting go of the past, or that it was a sign of maturity.  However, this was not the case.  The fact of the matter was that he was just confused by Harry Potter.  Was he the only one who thought that there was something wrong with the boy?  He had spoken to Minerva a few more times about Potter’s behaviour.  But after hearing her wax lyrical on how proud she was of the boy coming out of his shell, and bringing all the Gryffindors together, he soon gave up on that endeavour.  Nothing made him lose his appetite faster than seeing the old tabby’s eyes shine as she went on, and on about the boy wonder.

****

And as for Potter’s sister, it was evident that she had no incentive to reveal any information about her brother to him.  He supposed that he shouldn’t have been surprised or disappointed by that.  Still, he had hoped to glean some sort of information.  Speaking to any of the Gryffindor students was out of the question, of course.  Though they were the ones who spent the most time with him, they would also be the most protective of one of their own.  Not to mention the fact that they had started treating him like some sort of idol.

****

James Potter had been similar in many ways.  He and his friends had been wildly popular and well liked by the student population.  One would think that this parallel between father and son would have fueled Severus’s dislike of the boy, but this was not the case.  It was strange, but despite the Potter boy’s newfound popularity, he reminded Severus less and less of James.  There was something about Potter’s mannerisms that was familiar, but Severus could not pinpoint what it was.  James had come across as cocky, with that wholesome, Gryffindor charm.  On the other hand, the boy was magnetic and beguiling.

****

Both James and his son were arrogant, but while it was a maddening characteristic in James, with the boy, it came across as almost believable.  The younger Potter seemed to radiate with power.  Severus could think of very few people who gave off that impression of power.  That air of dominance could easily be what attracted the Lions to him.  Considering all that had happened thus far in the school term, it would make sense that someone with a bearing of confidence would be highly alluring.

****

So why didn’t Severus hate the boy?  Maybe it was because there was something dark about the younger Potter.  The darkness that he sensed made the boy almost relatable.  Not that Severus knew anything about being magnetic or popular.  He did know a great deal about darkness though.  It was curious, because nothing in the boy’s behaviour hinted at darkness.  This led Severus to believe that it might be something magical.  But could the Boy Who Lived really be aligned towards the Dark?  It struck Severus as inconceivable, yet, what other conclusion was there?  Unless it was all in his head.  Perhaps the nitwits he had to teach had finally driven him to madness.  Well, if that were the case, maybe he could be placed in the same ward as Lily.  Wouldn’t that be something.

****

As for the young Miss Potter, she was a surprise as well.  The girl appeared to be calm and collected - especially for one so young.  There was nothing about her that suggested that she might be a target of bullying.  Yet, somehow, she had been attacked with enough severity to end up in the Hospital Wing.  And the things that had been written across her face - thinking of it brought a growl to Severus’s throat.  He wished that Miss Potter had revealed the names so he could make certain to torment those students in and out of the classroom. Unfortunately, that pleasure was to be denied to him.

****

What could have brought on such an attack?  Severus was no stranger to being picked on, and he recognized malice when he saw it.  Whoever it was that attacked Miss Potter had a deep hatred for her.  It was unfortunate to already have enemies in her first year at Hogwarts.  Severus couldn’t help thinking that his own enemies had made his life hell while he was in school.  For some reason, it made him feel protective of the girl.  Feelings of protectiveness struck him as being rather foreign.  Generally, the only things he ever felt like safeguarding were rare potions ingredients.

****

It was fortunate that there appeared to be no more incidences to upset the student body.  Even the Weasley twin’s antics were limited to tormenting their elder and younger brothers.  Of course, that didn’t mean that his life was peaceful and untroubled.  There was still Gilderoy to deal with, and the horrifying decor in the Great Hall.  Severus could feel his hand twitch in anticipation of knocking that obnoxious twit on his arse.  It would be more satisfying if he could use a real curse - a dark curse.  But alas, dark magic was not permitted in the halls of Hogwarts.  It was a shame, really.

****

That evening, Severus opted to have his dinner in his own rooms.  It was Sunday after all - he felt like he deserved a break from the horrible little monsters that he had to teach.  Furthermore, it was better for his health.  In all likelihood, he would pop a vein if he had to spend more time immersed in all the pinkness.  The dungeons of Hogwarts were often described as the bowels of the school, but at the moment, the term seemed more apt when applied to the Great Hall.

****

Soon, it was close to 8 o’clock, and Severus steeled his nerves and calmed his mind so that he could tolerate the company of Gilderoy and his idiotic admirers.  He swept through the halls, and his black cloak billowed behind him.  The description of a great bat was more than fitting.

****

The Great Hall had been cleared of all the long tables, and a stage had been set up along one of the walls.  Of course, the stage was golden in colour, as though chosen to to match Gilderoy’s wavy hair.  Students were still filing into the Hall - it was early yet.  Severus had left most of the preparations to Gilderoy.  This was his little pet project after all.  But since it was unlikely that the foppish idiot would be able to control a crowd of students, it was only natural that another teacher would volunteer.  While it was true that Filius Flitwick was a masterful dueller, Severus could not pass up the chance to try and crush Gilderoy’s overweening pride.  That, and he also felt that it would be a good idea to keep watch on his Snakes.  They did know some rather nasty hexes, and it wouldn’t do to be putting other students in the infirmary.  Though of course, a bit of pain now and then wasn’t too bad.

****

 “Severus!” an annoying voice called out.  It took all his effort not to sneer, as Gilderoy came running up to him.  The man was still wearing his pink dueling robes, and under the candlelight, one could see shimmering golden threads embroidered throughout.  

****

  “There you are!  It wouldn’t do to have a dueling demonstration without my noble assistant!  Not all battles can be won with smiles and charm!”  Gilderoy beamed.  Severus felt a deep shudder running through him, and his expression was black.  However, Gilderoy had turned around and was leading him towards the stage.

****

Severus stood to the side, as Gilderoy walked to the centre of the platform.  As Severus looked out towards the Hall, he could see more students filing in.  It looked as though almost all of the student body had showed up for this ‘little’ club.  It was hardly a surprise.  There wasn’t very much to do in February after all.  While there were many rapt and adoring faces, Severus was cheered to see just as many incredulous expressions as well.  Most of his Snakes were sneering at the foppish idiot.  The sight filled Severus with a cold satisfaction.  Many of the Ravenclaws seemed skeptical as well, and when he caught the eyes of some of the more studious children, they gave him a respectful nod.

****

Severus caught sight of the young Potter, who was standing near to the Slytherins.  The positioning surprised Severus - he would have thought that Potter would be well enveloped by the adoring Lions.  Potter’s eyes glittered with an unusual iciness as he looked up at Gilderoy.  It was that iciness that made Severus think of Darkness when he thought of Potter.  It wasn’t a look that one usually saw on a Gryffindor.  The Lions were known for their hot rages, not for cold calculation.  And while it was odd, there was a look of deliberation in the boy’s eyes.  He looked right at home amidst the Slytherins.  Moreover, he looked like he was planning something.  Immediately, Severus was on his guard.

****

When it seemed as though most of the students had arrived, Gilderoy waved his arm to get the students’ attention.

****

 “Gather round, gather round!  Can everyone see and hear me?  Excellent!  Now, those of you who were there for lunch will know that I have been given permission by Professor Dumbledore to start this little dueling club.  And as you know, our theme for this evening is Lovers and Fighters!  And believe me, once I’ve trained you in the noble art of dueling, you’ll be winning hearts, left and right, as I myself have done on countless occasions.  Of course, I don’t kiss and tell, so you won’t find those tasty little tidbits in my published works, but as for all my battles?  Well!  You’ll have to buy my books and see, won’t you?”  Gilderoy winked.  Severus scowled.

****

  “As you also know, Professor Snape will be my assistant.  We’ll be showing you a little demonstration.  Oh!  This calls for a touch of drama - all for the sake of our theme, of course.  Now, I want you youngsters to imagine that the two of us will be fighting for the heart of a noble maiden.  She has declared that only one of us can have her hand in marriage, and we must prove ourselves in a duel.”  As Gilderoy expounded on the theme, Severus imagined casting the Entrail-Expelling curse on the man.  Though he wasn’t aware of it, several students were giving him nervous glances.

****

Gilderoy turned to him, to indicate that they were to begin.  The fop walked to one end of the stage, while Severus stood on the other.  He shrugged of his cloak - it would impair his mobility, and Gilderoy did the same with his bright pink cape.  Gilderoy gave a dramatic, courtly bow, while Severus could only manage to jerk his head.  That in itself was more than the man deserved.

****

 “As you see, we are holding our wands in the accepted combative position.  On the count of three, we will cast our first spells - and hopefully win the beloved lady’s heart.”  Gilderoy winked at the crowd again, while Severus narrowed his eyes.  He was thinking about all the places he would like to slice, to turn that pink dueling robe into a nice crimson.

****

 “Neither of us will be aiming to kill, of course,” Gilderoy added.  “One - Two -Three!”

****

Severus was thinking of the  _ Sectumsempra _ curse, which was a slashing curse when he uttered the word: “ _ Expelliarmus! _ ”  The force of his intense animosity towards the man caused Gilderoy to be blasted right off the stage and into the wall as the scarlet light slammed into him.  The force of the spell knocked the air out of Gilderoy’s lungs, and he ended up sprawled on the floor.  Severus found it only mildly gratifying.  He could hear some of the students, including his Snakes, cheering.  It would have been nice of Gilderoy could have stayed down.  But, the man was soon up on his feet, though he was rather unsteady.  He climbed back up on the platform, giving the students a tremulous smile.

****

  “Well, there you have it!” Gilderoy announced.  “That was the Disarming Charm - as you see, I’ve lost my wand - ah, thank you Miss Brown.  An excellent charm to start with Professor Snape.  Naturally, I could have stopped you - it would have been easy enough, but when one is trying to win the heart of a lady, it doesn’t hurt to put on a bit of a show!  And, erm -” 

****

At that very moment, Gilderoy happened to look over at Severus, as there was no disguising the murderous gleam in his eyes.  He really should have just gone with  _ Sectumsempra _ .  True, he would have lost his job, but it would have been a satisfying way to be fired.

****

 “Enough demonstrating!  I’ll be coming amongst you now and putting you in pairs.  Professor Snape, if you’d like to help me -”

****

Severus worked through the crowd, deliberately pairing Slytherins off with Gryffindors.  After the two pranks in the late fall, here was still a lot bad blood between the Houses.  It was clear that the Lions and the Snakes were hungry for blood.  Severus could hardly deny them their wish for revenge.  It would be interesting to see which house came out on top.  Gilderoy was making some sort of announcement about disarming only.  However it was evident that most students were ignoring him.  The Gryffindors only had eyes for the Slytherins.  Meanwhile the Slytherins were wearing their cold, vengeful sneers.

****

Gilderoy was heard, saying “One - two - three -” and soon after, chaos ensued.  None of the Gryffindors or Slytherins were casting disarming charms.  It seemed as though only the Hufflepuffs and some of the Ravenclaws had listened to the blockheaded professor.

****

Draco Malfoy, who had been paired with one of the Weasleys, were still throwing hexes at one another.  Malfoy appeared to be dancing angrily, while Weasley’s face was covered in pimples.  Potter had been paired against Theodore Nott, and whatever Potter had done had knocked the boy out cold.  Miss Granger and Miss Bulstrode seemed to have dropped their wands and were engaged in a wrestling match.  Though Miss Bulstrode had a thick build, Miss Granger fought like a wildcat, and Severus was mildly impressed by the girl’s spirit.  

****

 “Stop!  Stop!” Gilderoy was screaming, but none of the students paid him any heed.

****

With a sigh, Severus called out: “ _ Finite Incantatem! _ ”  The various jinxes were put to an end, and the Gryffindors and Slytherins were giving each other angry glares.  The Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs were watching the scene with curious, and even excited expressions.  Many of them seemed disappointed when the action ended.  Miss Granger and Miss Bulstrode were still fighting, but their friends managed to pull the two girls apart. 

****

Gilderoy was weaving his way between the students, trying to regain some of his authority, and helping students who had been knocked over.

****

 “I think we’d better start with teaching you how to block unfriendly spells,” Gilderoy said.  He flicked a glance at Severus.  Severus’s eyes glittered with the anticipation of being able to blast Gilderoy across the room again.  Unfortunately, Gilderoy seemed to lack the heart for it, and suggested a volunteer pair. 

****

 “How about Potter and Finch-Fletchley,” Gilderoy was saying, but Severus cut him off.

****

 “A bad idea, Professor Lockhart, Severus drawled.  “Our little celebrity will have the other students fawning all over him before they’d ever think to cast an offensive spell.  You’d be sending your students off swooning, and not just the ones on the stage.  How about - Malfoy and Weasley?”  Severus knew that there was a lot of bad blood between Malfoy and the Weasleys.  Malfoy had suspected them of the prank against him in the Great Hall back in December, and Severus was inclined to agree with that suspicion.  

****

As for Potter - well, there was something off about him.  He might look normal, and even act normal, but there was that underlying dark power.  Severus was not sure that the other students could handle it.  Though Theodore Nott had been awoken from his unconsciousness, the boy was still looking dazed, and it made Severus uneasy.  Severus cast a quick glance at Potter, and the boy’s eyes seemed to glitter with some unspoken knowledge, but the boy quickly glanced downwards, resuming his ‘humble’ act.

****

Gilderoy had shepherded Malfoy and Weasley to the middle of a hall where a large circle was cleared for them.  Gilderoy seemed to be giving instructions to the red-headed boy, and Severus felt a momentary stab of pity.  If Weasley were to attempt to follow Gilderoy’s instructions, he was more likely to harm himself than Malfoy.  Whatever Gilderoy was saying caused him to drop his wand, and Severus smirked.

****

Though Severus knew that Malfoy could hold his own, it was hardly fair for Gilderoy to give instruction, while the Slytherin got none.  Besides, it would be nice to see the Lions squirming with a bit of fear.  They were too arrogant and unruly by far.  Severus bent down, and whispered the snake summoning charm in Draco’s ear.  Let those Lions see what a serpent could  _ really _ do.  Malfoy smirked in gratification, while the Weasley boy looked pale.  However, when Malfoy taunted him, the Weasley boy stood taller, and snapped a retort.

****

 “One - two - three - go!” Gilderoy called out.

****

 “ _ Serpensortia! _ ” Malfoy called out, with his wand pointed straight at Weasley.  The end of his wand exploded and in immense black snake shot out, landing on the floor at the centre of the circle.  It was evident that the snake was angry.   It raised it’s head, hissing and poised to strike.  Weasley had lost all colour - in fact, most of the Gryffindors were looking horrified, and Severus felt a glow of vindication.  Was there anything better than seeing the Lions cower?

****

 “Don’t move, Weasley,” Snape said lazily.  It was hard to hide his pleasure at seeing the Gryffindors so afraid of the black, powerful snake.  “I’ll get rid of it.”

****

   “Allow me!” Gilderoy called out in a cocksure manner.  He waved his wand at the snake.  Severus could hear him say something like  _ Evanesco _ which was the vanishing charm, but Gilderoy had emphasized the first syllable instead of the third.  Severus winced - it would probably annoy the snake, but it shouldn’t really do much damage.

****

There was a loud bang, and instead vanishing, the snakes multiplied and soon there were ten, immense, black, and very angry snakes.  Severus was shocked.  Even if the intonation had been incorrect, there was no way that the  _ Evanesco _ could have multiplied the snakes.  What the devil was going on?

****

Students were screaming in panic.  All around, there was pushing and shoving.  Some of them were throwing off hexes at the snakes, and the snakes were darting forth, biting the students.  To his surprise, he heard Potter hissing at the snakes.  All ten of the snakes appeared to stop and look at Potter with intent black eyes.  Potter tilted his head towards one of the walls, and the snakes slithered off in that direction, and coiled in neat little circles against the wall.  The other Slytherins were looking at him in shock.  But all the other students were still in a panic.  Amidst the fray, they could not see what had happened, and many of them were blindly shooting hexes.  Instead of hitting snakes, they were hitting each other as they tried to shove their way out the hall.  Gilderoy was trying to gain control, but no one was listening to him.

****

As for Potter, he seemed to leap into action.  First, he checked on the students who had been bitten.  “Quick!  Somebody, get bezoar!” His eyes were on Severus. Shocked into action, Severus nodded, and dashed off to get his store of bezoar.  Behind him, he could hear Potter issuing more orders.  “We need to get these students to Madam Pomfrey!  Hermione!  Turn Justin over on his back.  Neville!  Go check Hannah’s head.  I think she knocked it when she fell.  Are you okay Susan?  It looks like it’s just a cut.   _ Episkey! _ ”

****

As Severus dashed off to get the bezoar, he found himself thinking that it was strange that he would ever take an order from Harry Potter.

****  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't been really happy with this story. It's a first attempt at fanfic, and I think I just lost control of it (so it remains unfinished)


	23. Chapter 23

Rosie and Romulus shared a glance as the Great Hall erupted into pandemonium.  The snake summoning charm had been unexpected, but Rosie hadn’t been afraid.  She had never had a fear of snakes - especially as a parseltongue.  However, she was shocked when Gilderoy cast the spell that caused the single snake to multiply into ten.  She knew he was a bumbling idiot, but despite her already low expectations, she was still surprised.  What made it worse was that all the snakes were stressed, which meant that they would act defensively.  She could hear them hissing in dismay, saying:  _ Where are we?  What is this place?  Danger!  Danger everywhere! _

 

The students were screaming all her around her.  She and Romulus leapt out of the way, as students pushed each other in frantic fear.  Most of them were trying to reach the exit, but some of them just wanted to get as far from the centre of the Hall as possible.  They found themselves dodging and ducking from multi-coloured hexes.  If Rosie weren’t so bewildered, she would have thought it was excellent training practice.  She kept getting the impression that Romulus’s shields protected her more than they protected himself, but then she decided she was imagining things.  Luna seemed to be adept at dodging spells, and even managed to cast a shield charm for herself.  As Rosie scanned the Hall, she caught a glimpse of Toby.  His eyes seemed to be glittering with a strange excitement.  He almost looked like he was smiling.  However, she shrugged it off - this was not the time or place to think about such things.

 

Rosie looked over at her brother.  Their link had been blacked out the entire day, and even now, she could feel none of his emotions.  He had seemed friendly and normal, and when Rosie had entered the hall with her friends, Harry greeted her with a warm smile.  She could see and hear him instruct the snakes that they would come to no harm if they made their way towards the back wall.  The snakes seemed to be listening to him - all of them were watching him with fixed eyes.  And then they all simultaneously slithered off towards one of the back walls and curled into balls.  She couldn’t help feeling sympathy for the creatures.  She didn’t know where they had been summoned from, but she imagined it would have been terrifying to be pulled from a familiar place, into a strange room full of strange people.  It didn’t occur to her that the snakes had been conjured from nothing - they seemed so real, so full of personality.

 

Long ago, Sirius had told Rosie and Harry that there was a negative stigma attached to parselmouths.  The books that the two of them had read had only confirmed that fact.  The siblings had intended to keep their ability to speak to snakes a secret, but considering the circumstances, Rosie could understand how Harry would break that secrecy.  She kept expecting the students to look at Harry with fearful or perhaps even repulsed expressions.  What was odd was that most of them were paying him no heed.  Perhaps that was because they were in a state of panic or fear - yet, she was noticing that many of the Slytherins were giving Harry curious glances.  Even Snape appeared rather wide-eyed as Harry attempted to sooth the threatened snakes.  

 

Harry seemed to take control of the situation with rapid ease.  She couldn’t feel anything from their link, but she was able to feel something else from him.  The intensity that she had noticed long ago seemed to reappear.  Furthermore, it seemed to be increasing.  What was strange was that it wasn’t frightening, the way it had been before.  Romulus was looking at Harry with a guarded wariness.  The students nearest to Harry seemed to be calming down.  As the intensity increased, the frenzy began to die down.  Some of the students looked dazed.  Others seemed a bit dreamy-eyed.  She even saw one or two students with sedate looking smiles.

 

At the entrance to the Great Hall, Professor McGonagall, Professor Flitwick and Professor Kettleburn had entered.  Amidst the panic, time felt much slower.  As a result, the eventual appearance of the Professors had seemed to take forever. The professors were also attempting to calm the frantic students, urging them to make their way to their common rooms (“No pushing, now!  Students, follow your prefects, and  _ Walk  _ back to your common rooms!  This will all be taken care of!”)

 

When the Professors entered the Hall, Harry’s intense energy seemed to disappear. There was no trace of the intensity left.  Harry, Hermione and Neville were dealing with the injured students.  Professor Snape soon returned with bezoar, which he administered to all the students that had been bitten.  He was followed closely by Professor Dumbledore.  The Headmaster’s expression was serious - there was no twinkle in his eyes that night.  His presence seemed to further calm many of the students, and Rosie could see him rest a reassuring hand on many shoulders.  Professor McGonagall had cast a spell to make all the snakes vanish.  Students that had serious injuries were taken to the infirmary.  The ones with minor injuries were immediately healed, and then sent back to their common rooms.

 

As the Slytherins left, they kept darting glances back at Harry.  Their expressions were speculative, and it made Rosie uneasy.  However, she was preoccupied with helping the injured students.  Though it was getting late, she volunteered to help Madam Pomfrey in the infirmary.  The matron was very grateful for the aid.  It was a long day, and a long night, and by the time Rosie made her way to bed, she fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.  Her request for Harry to see Madam Pomfrey had been completely forgotten.

 

The following day was a Monday, and as the owls flew into the Great Hall with the morning post, Rosie wondered what the newspapers would report.  Since she had stayed up later than usual to help Madam Pomfrey, her mind felt fuzzy with tiredness.  It appeared as though she was not the only one - many of the other students looked worn out.  A number of them were absent from the Hall.  Rosie peeked over at the Gryffindor table.  She could feel Harry through their link this morning.  She had wanted to speak to him about the previous evening, but she could sense intense irritability from him, and decided to wait.  At the Head Table, Professor Lockhart seemed to be missing, and strangely enough, Professor Dumbledore was gone as well.  Most of the teachers looked pale, but Professor Snape wore a thoughtful expression, and kept looking over at Harry.

 

The headlines in the  _ Daily Prophet _ read: SNAKE ATTACK AT HOGWARTS.  MULTIPLE STUDENTS INJURED.  Beneath the headline was a picture of an immense black snake, that had a remarkable likeness to the ones that had been summoned yesterday.  The snake in the photo appeared to lunge at the camera, displaying sharp, curved teeth.  There was also another smaller article, stating: HEROIC ACTIONS OF THE BOY WHO LIVED SAVES LIVES.  There was a small picture of Harry that looked like it had been taken over the Christmas break.  The background of the photo appeared to be Diagon Alley.  Harry was shaking someone’s hand, and wearing a friendly smile in the picture.  From the looks of it, it was one of his fans, considering Rosie didn’t recognize who the person was.

 

Rosie glanced back towards Harry.  The irritability had been enveloped by the blackness of the link, and Harry appeared to be in a good mood.  The irritation she had felt earlier had been so intense that she wondered if Harry was faking his pleasantness.  On the other hand, perhaps his ‘possessed’ persona was just friendly?  Assuming it was a possession.  Rosie still had to confirm it, and if Harry had meant what he said yesterday, then he would be willing to undergo all the tests that she planned to run.

 

Since Rosie didn’t have her own subscription to the  _ Daily Prophet _ she borrowed the paper off one of the other Ravenclaws when they were done with it.  The article ended up shocking her more than the headlines.  She scanned through the paragraphs, which made insinuations that Professor Dumbledore had gone senile (after listing his long string of titles, of course). The article claimed that the Headmaster had lost control of the school, citing both the petrified student from Hallowe’en, as well as the snake-bite prank.  The Board of Governors was currently undergoing a vote to have Professor Dumbledore suspended.  The article also included a rather long quote from Lucius Malfoy, who was currently the chairman of the school of governors.  The quote seemed to radiate smug satisfaction.  Rosie glanced over at the Slytherin table. Draco Malfoy wasn’t even bothering hide his smirk.

 

Luna, who was peering over at the article, commented: “Hm.  I think the Minister of Magic will be happy about this.  He’s been wanting to discredit the Headmaster for ages.  I suppose it will allow him to keep his army of heliopaths hidden for the time being.”

 

 “I can’t believe that they’re trying to get Professor Dumbledore suspended.  I mean, he did sometimes seem a bit - erm, barmy - but he’s also quite brilliant,” Rosie replied, biting her lower lip.  “I wonder who they’ll put in his place.”  She glanced back towards the Head Table, where the Headmaster’s spot remained empty.  Professor Dumbledore had always seemed like such a fixture in the school.  It was strange to think of Hogwarts without him.  Rosie looked back at the newspaper.

 

Less surprising was a mention that Professor Lockhart had been sacked after the fiasco of the dueling club.  Rosie couldn’t bring herself to feel sorry for him.  In all honesty, she was rather relieved.  She found herself wondering who would replace him as the Defence teacher for the rest of the term.  Hopefully someone who wasn’t an inept, bumbling ninny.  As Rosie considered the situation, she decided that it might be a good thing to have a new Headmaster.  Considering that Professor Dumbledore would hire someone like Professor Lockhart, or that he would allow Professor Binns to keep teaching - well, such things did not suggest a quality education.  She felt a spark of Ravenclaw optimism at the prospect of better teachers.

 

The first class of the day was supposed to be Defence.  However, it was cancelled since Professor Lockhart was gone, and the school had yet to find a replacement.  After seeing the notice of cancellation, the group of Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs headed back to the Great Hall, and sat together at the Hufflepuff table.  Ordinarily, most of the Ravenclaws would have returned to the Ravenclaw nest, or gone to the library to study.  Instead, everyone wanted to talk about what had happened the previous evening.

 

  “I can’t believe Professor Lockhart is gone!” Edine wailed.  Sakiko, and most of the Hufflepuff girls looked mournful, but most of the other first years looked at her as though she had gone daft. 

 

 “I say good riddance,” Alec Perriss scowled.  Most of the girls shot him angry glares.

 

 “Do you really think that they’ll suspend Professor Dumbledore?  I mean, he wasn’t even there,” said Eleanor Wynch, the auburn Hufflepuff.  She seemed disturbed by this notion.

 

 “Yeah, but all the parents are totally on edge.  I mean, my parents wanted to pull me out of Hogwarts.  But I didn’t want to be homeschooled or go to Durmstrang,” Alec replied.

 

Sakiko scrunched up her face in distaste.  “Yuck - I’d hate to be homeschooled.  My parents barely have any books at home.  But then again, my mum was a ‘Puff, and my dad was in Gryffindor.  They just don’t get it.”  She sighed.  Edine gave her friend a sympathetic look.  The Hufflepuff’s shared looks, Rosie could see some of them rolling their eyes, and muttering “Ravenclaws.”

 

 “Well, Dumbledore probably is getting senile.  I mean, look at what he wears!” Edine said disdainfully.  “I wouldn’t be surprised if the Board voted him out.”

 

 “Professor Dumbledore is the greatest wizard of our age!” Imogen Flinton exclaimed.  She was another Hufflepuff first year.  A few of the other students were nodding in agreement.

 

 “He  _ was  _ the greatest wizard of our age,” Edine retorted.  The students who supported Dumbledore, and the students who didn’t glared at one another angrily.

 

Finally, someone changed the topic.  “Yesterday was crazy, wasn’t it?” Finley Ancrum asked.  “I got hit by the impediment jinx at least three times.”  

 

 “People are such idiots,” Edine huffed.  “I mean, what kind of person thinks it’s a good idea to start throwing hexes in a crowded room?”

 

 “I barely even know any hexes,” Eleanor said.  “I was just trying to run away.  I think it was mostly the older students throwing hexes.”  Many of the first years agreed.  Most of them did not know many offensive spells.  While the Ravenclaws may have been more educated about the topic, their knowledge was more theoretical than practical.

 

 “Justin Finch-Fletchley - he’s one of our second years - got bit by one of the snakes,” Imogen said.  “He had to go to the Infirmary and everything!”

 

 “It was so scary!” Eleanor squealed.  “I hate snakes!”  Many of the other students agreed.

 

 “Did you guys see Harry Potter?” Alec asked. The mention of her brother’s name caused Rosie to perk up.  How would they react to his actions?  She had asked Luna this morning whether Luna had heard Harry say anything to the snakes.  Luna had shaken her head in negation.  However, Luna had noticed the way the snakes looked at Harry before slithering away.

 

 “He was sooo amazing,” Sakiko gushed before turning to Rosie. “I can’t believe he’s your brother.” 

 

 “Well, he is the Boy Who Lived,” Imogen said.  “Of course he’d be amazing!  He survived You-Know-Who after all.”

 

 “He helped me after I was tripped by a jinx,” Eleanor said, with a blush and a smile.

 

 “I wish I was more like him,” Finley said, unable to hide his envy.  The pale Hufflepuff wasn’t exactly known for his courage.  He wasn’t exactly known for his wits either.  The first years soon started to ask Rosie questions about her brother.  Not wanting to discuss Harry, she gave them ambiguous non-answers until they gave up (“I dunno.  Harry’s just Harry.”)  The Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs huffed in irritation, but seemed happy to gush about Harry amongst themselves.  Meanwhile, Rosie was lost in her thoughts.  She had clearly heard Harry speak parseltongue, and she hadn’t even been that close to him.  However, Luna had heard nothing, and it seemed as though the other Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs had heard nothing as well.  If anything, their opinions of Harry matched the report in the  _ Daily Prophet _ .  They saw Harry as some kind of hero.  Rosie knew she needed to speak to the Slytherins about what they had heard.  She had to speak to Harry as well.  It made no sense that some people were able to hear the hissing, and some people weren’t. 

 

The Ravenclaws had History of Magic with the Slytherins, and Rosie sat down next to Mathilda, Harper and Luthais.  The Slytherins were giving her curious glances - not just her friends, but all the Slytherins as well.  Instead of pretending to ignore her, Astrid gave a slight nod of her head.  Startled by the acknowledgement, Rosie nodded back in return.

 

  “Hello, Primrose,” Mathilda said.  Most of the other Slytherins had a speculative look in their eyes, but Mathilda was as warm as ever..  Rosie greeted her Slytherin friends.

 

  “So -” Luthais drawled.  “You never told us your brother was a parselmouth.”

 

  “Well, I generally don’t bring Harry up for no reason,” Rosie replied with a shrug.  “Besides, it was a secret.  It’s not as though we could have guessed that something like this could happen.”  Luthais had just confirmed what she had thought she witnessed.  It appeared that the Slytherins had heard Harry speaking to the snakes yesterday.  They did not seem particularly troubled or afraid of this knowledge.  But then again, Slytherins were known for their greater acceptance of Dark Magic, and parselmouths were associated with Dark witches and wizards.

 

Professor Binns had begun his lecture.  Rosie and the other Slytherins lowered their voices.

 

 “It’s rather curious.  How did Harry come by this skill?” Mathilda asked.  “There has never been a Potter that was a parselmouth.  And your mother was muggleborn, wasn’t she?”

 

 “Harry has been able to speak to snakes for as long as I can remember.  We didn’t even realize it was a rare skill until our godfather told us.  To us, it just seemed ordinary,” Rosie explained in soft tones.

 

 “Yeah, but once your godfather told you, didn’t you look into it further?” Harper asked.  “I mean, it’s a bloody rare ability!  People think he’s the Heir!”  Harper’s swearing, as well as his message caused Rosie to start in surprise.

 

 “People think Harry is the Heir?”  Rosie gaped.

 

 “Not everyone, but most of Slytherin is convinced of it,” Luthais explained.  “Draco and all his followers, for one.  Her -” Luthais flicked a glance at Astrid.  “- and her friends.  A lot of the upperclassmen are divided though.  Draco won’t shut up about it.  He seems to have gotten this idea that it was your brother’s plan all along to hide among the Lions, and act timid.  He keeps saying that Potter is definitely the Heir because only the Heir could be so devious.”

 

 “What do you guys think?” Rosie asked.  She was still in shock.  She tried to remember what message had been written on the wall on the day poor Duncan Inglebee got petrified.  The Heir has returned?  Was that it?  But if Harry was the Heir, then didn’t his return occur last year when he first came to Hogwarts?  Rosie shook off her thoughts - how could she even assume Harry was actually the Heir?

 

 “We’re not sure,” Mathilda replied.  She pursed her lips, as though debating her next words.  “In all honesty, being a parselmouth is an extremely rare ability.  What are the odds of someone in the school having it, and having the Chamber of Secrets open?”

 

 “Well - I mean - I can speak parseltongue,” Rosie admitted.  She didn’t want for all the Slytherins to get carried away and start thinking that her brother had plans to wipe out half-bloods and muggleborns.  They were both half-bloods after all.  It made no sense.  The three Slytherins gaped at her in surprise at her revelation.

 

 “What?” Luthais exclaimed.  His voice was loud enough to cause Professor Binns to pause and stare at their table.  Luthais frowned, and looked down at his desk, and Professor Binns continued to drone on.

 

 “Are you being serious?” Harper asked.

 

 “Why would I make something like this up?” Rosie retorted.

 

 “Then it must be something in your bloodline if you can both speak it,” Mathilda said.  She her eyes were momentarily distant, as she tried to recall the bloodlines associated with parselmouths.  This was mostly limited to Slytherin’s bloodline, including the elusive Gaunts. 

 

Rosie shook her head.  “It’s not something I was born with.  Harry taught me.”

 

The three Slytherins were once again looking at her with bewilderment.  “He taught you?” Luthais asked.  “Is that even possible?  I thought it was an ability that could only be inherited.”

 

 “It was a long time ago.  I can’t really remember all the details.  I guess Harry isn’t even convinced about it, but I’m pretty sure he taught me.  We’ve been speaking parseltongue to each other since we were kids.  We didn’t really see it as a big deal,” Rosie told them.

 

 “Merlin’s beard,” Harper muttered.  “One of the rarest magical abilities, and you didn’t see it as a big deal?”

 

 “Wait - just to make sure - you didn’t have anything to do with the Chamber of Secrets, did you?” Luthais asked suspiciously.

 

 “Me?  No!” Rosie exclaimed.  “I don’t even know where it is!”

 

Mathilda’s lips quirked in amusement.  “I can’t imagine you being the Heir.  No offense, Primrose.”

 

Rosie laughed softly.  “Don’t worry, I’m not offended.  I wouldn’t want people thinking I was the Heir.  But I really can’t imagine it being Harry.  I mean - most people know that we’re half-bloods.  Not that I’m saying that we’re both Light.  I think Harry and I are both more neutral.  Well - maybe Harry leans more towards the Light.  He’s friends with a lot more muggleborns than I am.  But neither of us really have anything to do with Salazar’s ideology”

 

 “Do you want us to tell the others?” Mathilda asked.

 

Rosie pursed her lips.  “I don’t know.  Let me speak to Harry first.  And - well - just keep the fact that I’m a parselmouth quiet.  I wouldn’t want people to get the wrong idea.”  The Slytherins nodded.

 

The following day, it was announced that Professor McGonagall would be the temporary Headmistress of Hogwarts until a new Headmaster could be found.  The news was met with mixed reactions.  It wasn’t that the students doubted Professor McGonagall’s abilities - rather, the shock came from the fact that Professor Dumbledore was not returning.  There were a few gleeful faces - especially from the Slytherins.  Many of the Gryffindor’s looked dumbstruck and saddened.  There were many who felt that the Headmaster had been wrongfully suspended.  Some thought that the blame should have fallen solely on Professor Lockhart’s shoulders.  Very few people mourned the loss of Lockhart (though some of his female fans were tearful).

 

Beyond that, yet more students had been pulled from Hogwarts by worried parents.  Several of the students who had been injured during the dueling club disaster had not returned.  It was a blow to Hogwarts that the many in the Wizarding world seemed to have lost faith in the safety of the school.  After a long conversation with Sirius in the mirror in the late afternoon, Harry and Rosie had decided to stay.  Sirius had seemed more focused on Harry being a hero, than on his concerns about the dueling club disaster.  Their godfather had been radiating with irrepressible pride. 

 

Throughout the conversation, Rosie’s link with Harry had been blacked out.  After they ended the mirror call, Rosie turned to her brother.  Aside from not being able to feel his emotions, he appeared ‘normal.’  

 

The corner of his lip quirked up when he noticed her examining him.  “You look like you have questions.”

 

 “At the dueling club, you were speaking parseltongue.”  Rosie watched as Harry nodded in confirmation.  “I spoke to Luna and Rom about it yesterday.  Neither of them heard you say anything to the snakes.  But both of them mentioned that they noticed the snakes looking at you before slithering away.  None of the Ravenclaws or Hufflepuffs brought it up either.  In History of Magic yesterday, I also spoke to Mathilda, Luthais and Harper.  They’re Slytherins in my year, by the way.  They could hear you Harry.  In fact, they told me all the Slytherins could hear you.  They - well - a lot of them seem pretty convinced that you’re the Heir of Slytherin.”  Rosie looked at Harry expectantly.  His expression was bemused.

 

 “The Heir?  That’s ridiculous.  Do they really believe that?”

 

 “Most of them do.  Luthais told me that Draco was really vocal about it.  And of course, if Draco was vocal about it, then all his followers would be in the same boat.  But that’s -” Rosie shook her head.  “What I wanted to ask was, why did only the Slytherins hear you?”

 

Harry bit his lower lip.  Although their link was blacked out, there was nothing about him that appeared threatening.  In fact, the expression he was wearing made him look as innocent as a puffskein.  Rosie thought: ‘I really need to figure out that runic circle soon.’  Harry looked so harmless that it was easy to question her own judgement.

 

 “Well - the thing is -” Harry began.  “It’s Sephtis.”

 

 “Sephtis?  How so?”  Rosie couldn’t see the feathered serpent anywhere.  She heard Harry hiss softly, and from within his robes, the small black head peeked out and flicked it’s tongue.

 

 “ _ My companion wishes me to greet you, weak one, _ ” Sephtis said.

 

It took a lot of effort for Rosie to not sigh.  “ _ Hello to you too, Sephtis. _ ”  The feathered serpent seemed to nod before hiding back in Harry’s robes. 

 

 “I thought you kept him in your common room.  Do you really carry him everywhere?” Rosie asked.

 

Harry looked a bit sheepish.  “Well, no one has noticed.  Plus, he’s pretty protective of me.”

 

 “Hm. Well, I guess if no one has noticed - but anyway, what does Sephtis have to do with anything?”

 

 “I’m not sure if you’re aware, but Sephtis has a lot of magic.  Now that he’s starting to eat more, it’s strengthening.  Plus, I think that being around me all the time helps.  He helps me too - I almost feel like doing magic is easier with him.”

 

 “Really?” Rosie asked, startled.  She knew that the feathered serpent was more than he appeared, but she had no idea that he would have such effects.

 

Harry grinned, and the familiarity of the expression left her longing to believe that Harry was fine, and well.  She really didn’t like being caught up in all the weirdness.  She just wanted to enjoy school, and make friends, and learn.

 

 “Yeah. Sephtis says he can do a lot of other things as well, but he still has to grow into a lot of his abilities.  Did you know that as long as I keep feeding him bigger and bigger animals, he’ll keep growing?”  Harry peered downwards with a grin.  He seemed to be looking at Sephtis, though the feathered serpent was hidden beneath his robes.  “He says that he doesn’t think there’s a limit to how big he can get.  But we agreed that he should remain small while we’re still in school.  It’s easier for him to hide that way.  Anyway -” 

 

Harry returned his gaze to Rosie.  “I think the reason that the Slytherins could hear me, but no one else could, was because Sephtis was using protective magic.  Anyone who would be threatened by parselmouths would hear nothing, but people who valued the ability would be able to hear it.”

 

 “He can really do that?” Rosie asked.

 

Harry smiled crookedly.  “He’s definitely really protective of me.  I’ve actually been trying to do research on Kukulkans. It’s difficult to find anything.  I think I found only one book that passingly mentioned feathered serpents.  And apparently, in South America, the feathered serpent was a god.  But muggles tend to have weird views on magic.  Either they go all crazy and scary and try and burn things at the stake, or they think it’s godly.”  Harry shrugged, but there was a cold gleam in his eyes when he mentioned muggles.  Though Rosie and Harry had grown up in the wizarding world, they did have some exposure to the muggle world.  On occasion, Sirius took them out to muggle London for fun.  Plus, Harry had muggleborn friends.  Harry’s reaction to muggles had always been mild curiosity in the past.  When had his opinion changed into something colder and darker?

 

 “Hm.  Yeah, muggles are pretty weird,” Rosie said neutrally.  “I always felt kind of bad for muggleborns.  Was it hard for Hermione to adjust?”

 

 “Hermione?  Yeah, as smart as she is, there’s a lot of little things she doesn’t get about the wizarding world.  And Hermione’s brilliant.  For a less intelligent witch or wizard -” Harry grimaced.

 

Rosie decided it was time to change the topic and address the other concern that had been on her mind.  “You know, people are acting like you’re a big hero.  And - well -” Rosie bit her lower lip as she tried to find the right words.   “When everyone was panicking, I felt something from you.  Magic, or something.  It was like you calmed everyone down.  What happened?”  Rosie’s expression was intent as she awaited her brother’s answer.

 

 “I don’t know, I just - wanted everyone to be less scared.”  Harry hissed something softly to Sephtis, but whatever the feathered serpent’s reply was was too quiet for Rosie to hear.  Harry’s gaze was distant as he listened to Sephtis.

 

Finally, Harry’s eyes returned to Rosie.  “Sephtis said he felt it too.  He thinks it’s a kind of accidental magic.”

 

 “Accidental magic?  Harry, whatever that was, it seemed to affect the whole Hall!  Are - are you sure Sephtis had nothing to do with it?”  Rosie wasn’t so sure why she would have preferred it to be Sephtis rather than Harry.  Perhaps it was just that the occurrence had been so extraordinary.  While she thought highly of Harry, she didn’t necessarily want to see Harry as somehow different than other wizards.  He had spent his whole life trying to hide and act like he was nothing special.  He used to hate the attention that he received from the wizarding world.  Yes, it was true that he was the only known person to have survived the killing curse.  But Harry was Harry!

 

Rosie could tell that her thoughts were losing coherence.  The incident had reminded her too much of that other occurrence in December, when she had been overwhelmed by Harry’s intensity.  Of course, that experience had felt different - more ominous, but in both cases, she had been aware that whatever she was feeling was unusual.  Not for the first time, she wondered if she was out of her depth.  Maybe she should just ask for help - speak to one of the professors or something.  Or maybe even Sirius!  She was just eleven!  She shouldn’t have to deal with this kind of stuff.  It wasn’t fair!

 

  “Rosie?”  Harry’s question caused Rosie to meet his eyes.  She had been so lost in her thoughts that she seemed to have missed what he had said.  As Harry’s eyes bored into Rosie’s, she felt like she couldn’t look away.  It was strange, but it almost seemed like he could see right through her, and know everything she was thinking.  What had she been thinking anyway?

 

 “Hm - I think you’re a bit worn out.  Why don’t we chat later?  I’m guessing you still have a lot of homework to do?”  Harry asked gently.

 

Homework?  She did have to draw up a diagram for transfigurations, and she had a paper to write for charms.  She supposed she could always read further ahead in Potions, and maybe also study 

the star charts for Astronomy.

 

 “It’s been a nice talk, hasn’t it, Rosie?” Harry asked.  He smiled warmly, and all she could think about was that it was so nice to see him smiling like that.

 

Rosie smiled in return.  “Yeah - it has been a nice chat.  I always feel better after talking to you, Harry.”

 

 “I’m happy that I was able to answer all your questions,” Harry said.

 

 “Yeah -” What questions had she asked?  It must not have been important if she couldn’t really recall.  Rosie smiled again at her brother.  “Talk to you later Harry.”

 

 “You too, Rosie.”

 

It was a little strange to have Professor Dumbledore gone, but it wasn’t long before things seemed to return back to normal.  The Headmaster had mostly been seen during meals - he hadn’t 

 

interacted with many of the students.  Professor Dumbledore had been more like a figurehead - a great and distant wizard that brought prestige and awe to Hogwarts.  As such, his absence was easy enough to put out of mind.  

 

The Hufflepuff-Gryffindor Quidditch match was in February, and of course, Rosie went to support her brother.  Though many students seemed to have a low opinion of the Hufflepuffs, the Badger House played well, and it was a close and exciting match.  Fortunately, Harry suffered no mishaps or broken bones, and even better, Rosie could feel his emotions through the link.  She was thrilled by Harry’s adrenaline rush from chasing after the snitch.  If not for that, she would probably have been tempted to pull out a book and read, the way Hermione was doing.  However, soon after the match was over, the blackness in their link had returned.  The timing of it struck Rosie as strange, but for some reason, she didn’t really want to think about it, and it was soon forgotten.  She had more pressing matters to worry about, such as practicing the latest transfiguration spell, and making sure she avoided Toby, Marietta and Sarah.  

 

Rosie was also engrossed in the books that Madam Pomfrey had given her about mind healing.  She had previously had a rather low opinion of mind healers in the past - especially since the mind healers at St. Mungo’s had failed to help her parents.  However, it was a fascinating area of study.  In many ways, the mind was much more difficult to heal than the body.  As a result, the practice of mind healing was also more complex.

 

The book that Madam Pomfrey had given her had focused largely on the theory behind mind healing.  The practice of mind healing itself could only be done with a trained practitioner.  Especially since many of the actual techniques behind mind healing could potentially damage the mind.  The magic behind mind healing was related to the magic of Legilimency, yet it was also very different.  Legilimency was not widely known or taught, and in the same ways, the magic of mind healers was tightly regulated to prevent abuse.  Much of the practices of mind healing used Legilimency as a foundation.  Yet, many of the spells were completely unique to the specialty of mind healing itself.  While Legilimency allowed one to rifle through the thoughts and memories of another witch or wizard, some mind healing spells used a more intuitive and abstract technique. 

 

Mind healing was done with a combination of potions and with magic.  More often than not, potions were used, since the risk was lesser.  Rosie had read that there had been cases of mind healing magic permanently changing witches or wizards.  The magic could alter a person’s personality, or render them catatonic in some cases.  Sometimes, mind healing magic could hurt the healer themselves.  This could happen if the magic of the patient attacked the magic of the healer.  Peering into the mind of a witch or wizard left both parties very vulnerable.

 

Despite the dangers, Rosie felt drawn to mind healing more than any other aspect of healing.  Perhaps it was because of her experience with Miss Accrington that influenced her.  She had seen the Slytherin girl one or two times in the corridors, and surprisingly, the girl always had a smile for her.  Or perhaps it was some unspoken wish to someday heal her own parents.  In many ways, they were strangers to her.  Yet, the stories she had heard from Sirius and more recently Remus had brought them to life, if only in her own mind.  She wanted to know them as more than trembling, screaming bodies.

 

Unfortunately, the actual practice of mind healing was far too advanced to be taught at Hogwarts.  It was a specialized area of healing, and even Madam Pomfrey lacked expertise in the field.  She gave Rosie all the books that she had on the subject, but until Rosie graduated Hogwarts, she would not be able to pursue her interest on a practical level.

 

In late February, Rosie finally learned the entirety of the runic circle that detected whether more than one spirit existed in the body.  She was looking forward to testing out the circle on Harry, but for some reason that she couldn’t define, her drive was no longer as intense.  The idea that Harry could be possessed was starting to seem almost silly.  More and more often, she encountered Harry during the black outs in their link.  During these periods, nothing particularly odd seemed to happen.  

 

In fact, she found herself agreeing with Hermione’s assessment.  Harry was more confident, more happy.  She liked being around him.  Sure, she couldn’t feel what he felt anymore, but to make up for it, Harry often invited her to spend time with him and the other Gryffindors.  Better yet, because he had helped so many people at the catastrophic dueling club, they were now joined by Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws as well.  Slytherins were notably absent, though they did give Harry many covert glances.  Rosie didn’t give it much thought.  Being around Harry was too nice - there was no reason to worry needlessly about things when she had no confirmation.  And for some reason, she was certain that the runic circle would show that nothing was wrong with Harry.  How could it be otherwise?

 

All the same, she knew that Harry was curious about the runic circle.  He asked her a great deal of questions about it.  She felt embarrassment, bringing it up with him, but Harry quickly laughed it off.

 

 “I admire the dedication you’ve shown by taking time to learn the framework,” he had said.  “It’s not a simple runic spell.”

 

It was hard for Rosie to describe how happy his praise had made her.

 

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

 

Romulus noticed that Primrose had changed.  It was a subtle thing, like trying to spot the green scales of the boomslang amidst green foliage.  She smelled the same - no, that wasn’t quite right.  She used to smell more afraid, but a lot of that fear was gone.  The problem with that was that sometimes, fear was a good thing.  Fear kept one alert, and ensured that one was paying attention to their surroundings.  And what was surrounding Primrose was her brother, and the strange magical feeling that emanated from him.

 

Whatever it was, Harry Potter seemed to be gaining a measure of control over it.  Or was it because of that weird feathered serpent he always kept with him?  All Romulus knew was that last year, the threat he felt from Harry was palpable.  Though few seemed aware of it, there was the sense that that inexplicable power could easily crush anyone in its grasp.  Romulus hated the way it made his hairs stand on end.  It made him want to growl and at the same time whimper.  The wolf within him longed to flee - the self-preservation instinct was stronger in his animal-side.

 

But this year, it seemed that things had changed.  The power was still there, still making his skin feel prickly all over.  But there were more layers to it - it was both more powerful, and yet also more obscured.  It was more magnetic.  It had, in a way, felt magnetic last year as well, but last year, that magnetism was as strong as the danger.   Somehow this year, the danger was masked. 

 

Romulus knew it was there - the danger.  It manifested more as a persistent sense of wrongness, but it was also well hidden.  Seeing Harry and being around him no longer made him instantly tense.  At the same time, he felt more ill at ease than ever.  He thought back to the conversation that he had had with Rosie earlier in the month.  Cursed.  Possessed.  The words rang true, even if Romulus didn’t have any certainty in the truth of them.  They were just ways of saying that things weren’t right.  That something was off.

 

And whatever it was, it was affecting Primrose, who was his friend and his packmate.  He couldn’t just stand by as the danger crept around her, lulling her into a state of false security.  The only question was, what could he do?  He had to speak to her.  The idea made queasy, like he had a bad case of worms.  It wasn’t in his nature to want to talk about things.  But he had no choice.  She was his friend.  He wished things could go back to how they were, when the two of them would just study together in silence.

 

It was near the end of February and class was finished for the day.  She had spent most of Herbology chatting with the Slytherins.  And if her new pattern was anything to go by, she’d be spending the rest of the day with her brother and the other Gryffindors.  They were even joined by some Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws.  He had seen Alec Perriss, his dormmate, sitting with the group.  Where Luna fit into this whole thing, he didn’t know.  Sometimes he would see Luna with Rosie and Harry, but other times, Luna would disappear.  What he did know was that at least Luna was no threat, even if she was incomprehensible.

 

  “Primrose,” he said, catching her arm before she could wander off.  The Ravenclaws and Slytherins had drifted off to wherever they usually went after class.  The library?  Common room?  He didn’t care.  Primrose was looking a bit bewildered.  She was unable to hide her restlessness, her desire to be off to wherever her brother and his pride of lions were.

 

 “We need to talk.”  The phrase felt strange in his mouth.  He had spent too much of his life avoiding conversation.

 

 “Talk about what?” Primrose asked.  He had no desire to discuss anything out here in the open.  Instead, he pulled her along into an empty classroom, shutting the door behind them.  Primrose was biting her lower lip, glancing at the closed door.  His friend had always been attentive before.  Her undisguised impatience made her seem like someone else.  This made his desire to speak shrink further, until it was more like the pull of obligation, than a wish to connect with a friend. 

 

Nonetheless, he pushed himself forwards.  “You’ve changed.  Because of your brother.”  No sense in drawing this out longer than he needed to.  

 

 “Harry?  What does he - wait, is this about that conversation we had a few weeks ago?  Just forget about that!  I think I was just getting myself worked up over nothing.  Though I did finish that runic circle, and Harry and I will try it out this this weekend.”  Primrose’s eyes shone with anticipation, but not the kind of anticipation he would expect, from a girl wanting to discover whether or not her brother was possessed.  What in Merlin’s name had happened to her?

 

Romulus hummed.  He wanted to witness the result of the runic circle.  Since Primrose had been spending less and less time with him, he found himself more drawn in by the idea of possessions and curses.  Thankfully, his newfound interest wasn’t enough to disrupt his potions performance.  All the same, he often found himself thinking about the situation while stirring his brews, or waiting as the liquids simmered.  While he had a lifelong habit of keeping things to himself, he wished that he had someone to speak to about this.  Curses had never been a focus of his attentions.  And although many would consider lycanthropy a curse, he had lived with it for so long, that he simply saw it as ‘life.’

 

 “You know, you should come hang out with us in the Great Hall,” Primrose said, when it was clear that Romulus had nothing to add.  “Luna does.  I’ve gotten to know the Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors a lot better.  You’re missing out.”

 

Romulus scanned his friend’s face.  It was like trying to talk to a stranger.  She spoke to him as though she didn’t know him at all, and he felt a bite of irritation.  Something must have shown on his face because Primrose pursed her lips and furrowed her brow.

 

She shook her head and sighed.  “Nevermind.  I know you like your silence and your space.  Anyway -”  she peered towards the door before looking back at him.  “If that’s all you have to say, then I better get going.  And Rom - just - well, give Harry a chance.  He’s my brother.”  

 

Primrose rested her hand lightly on his arm before opening the door and leaving.  It left a strange twist in his gut, to feel the familiar touch of his friend, and yet feel like it was the touch of a stranger.  The whole conversation did nothing to alleviate Romulus’s unease.  Though Primrose did not specify the date that she would be drawing up the circle, he intended to follow her over the weekend.  He wanted to see the results of the framework for himself.  He also couldn’t shake the feeling that if it turned out that Harry was in fact possessed, that Primrose would have some suitable excuse for it.  Not to say that he didn’t trust her.  He just didn’t trust Harry.

 

Friday turned out to be a lonely day.  Romulus’s lips turned downwards as he considered the thought.  He was used to solitude.  He liked solitude.  Why did he just describe the day as lonely?  It wasn’t as though he lacked for things to do.  He was struggling a bit with the mouse to snuffbox transformation.  He could always practice that.  He also had yet another interesting biography to read of a famous potions master.  He could hardly blame his mood on the full moon, since that had been earlier in the month.  And he did have to go down to the potions lab in the dungeon to check on his latest project. It required to be stirred clockwise and widdershins thrice each day for a fortnight.  This he did in the late afternoon, after writing Remus yet another letter (even though he wrote just a few days ago).  Hopefully Remus would not misread the frequent letters as a cry for attention.  Even if it was a cry for attention.  At least Remus’s attention was always calm and soothing.

 

Romulus walked the familiar path down to the dungeon.  Most of the students (aside from Slytherins) hated it down here.  While Romulus normally did not like feeling too enclosed, the dungeons held positive associations for him.  The chilled air was perfect for brewing.  Romulus turned a corner, and entered into the potions lab.  He noticed Professor Snape standing at the cupboards when he entered the lab.  The Professor looked like he was stocking supplies.  Like Primrose, he and the Professor seemed to have a relationship of quiet respect and acceptance.  If they ever spoke, it was only ever about potions.  Nothing more.  Romulus liked talking about potions.  Actually, he loved talking about potions - there was nothing else that engaged in him on the same level.  And while he and Professor Snape might tilt their heads at one another with perfect politeness, Romulus found himself wanting something different.  But what?  Conversation?  Connection?

 

What was wrong with him?  Did Primrose’s absence matter so much?  He wanted - no needed to talk to someone about this Harry-with-his-weird-magic-thing.  The whole situation was too wrong.  He couldn’t bear it alone.  If he had known about how things would turn out in advance, he never would have involved himself with Primrose back in September, but now it was too late.  She was Harry’s sister, and Harry Potter was drawing people to him, as though he were a whirlpool.  Except instead of the fear that they ought to be experiencing, they were perfectly happy to drown in whatever strange magic emanated from him.

 

He must have been giving Professor Snape a strange look, because the Professor raised black eyebrow, and said, “Is something the matter, Mr. Lupin?”

 

Had he been staring?  Romulus felt his ears burn, and shook his head like a bashful idiot.  Professor Snape gave him a long look, frowned, and then looked away.  The moment was lost, and Romulus was once again ensnared by the vicious circle of his own thoughts.

 

His sleep was broken and unrestful.  Which meant that as the weekend arrived, his senses were far from sharp.  Nonetheless, he was determined to keep close watch on Primrose.  He felt a sense of dread mingling with his anticipation.  He felt a pitiful sense of hope that maybe she had snapped out of her distant, inattentive state.  Maybe she was back to being herself.  Maybe she would want to study with him, instead of running off her brother and his increasing circle of friends.  

 

It wasn’t jealousy, or so he told himself.  It was just that Harry had so, so many friends now, and really, he only had one.  Maybe Luna counted as half a friend.  She was nice enough.  So, one and a half friends.  Romulus growled at himself.  This situation was making him daft.  He didn’t feel like himself anymore.  Maybe this was why he didn’t bother with friends in the first place.  It seemed like more trouble than it was worth.  He should just sit himself down in the common room and do his homework.  If Primrose wanted to spend all her time with Harry, then he should just let her.  Instead, he found himself trailing his friend, as she went about her day.

 

Romulus’s mind drifted to Harry.  Maybe this was his fault.  Well, it seemed obvious that Harry was at fault for affecting Primrose.  But maybe Harry had done something with this magic to affect Romulus as well.  For some reason, he liked this explanation.  It was better than the alternative, which was that his feelings were real.  His feelings were supposed to be calm and cold, like a glacial lake.  The tumultuous confusion just wasn’t natural.

 

Primrose was up fairly early on Saturday, but because of Romulus’s erratic sleeping habits, he was up even earlier.  Primrose, Romulus and Luna still ate their meals together in the Great Hall - that, and classes remained unchanged.  It was everything else that was different.  After a quiet breakfast (most of the other students were still sleeping in), Primrose and Luna wandered off to the Gryffindor table, where a few Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws were already sitting.  Harry Potter, and many of the Gryffindors were still absent.  The table was like the headquarters of the Harry Potter fan club.  And though Romulus had an open invitation to join, he felt no inclination to do so.  Harry Potter might act nice (and heroic even).  He might be magnetically alluring.  But Romulus didn’t want to be anywhere near him.  He feared that falling into Harry Potter’s magical charisma would make him forget himself.  It was that powerful.

 

He recognized many of the students at the Gryffindor table as people that Harry had helped at the dueling club.  Alec Perriss, Eleanor Wynch and even Finley Ancrum were sitting at the table.  Alec seemed the happiest he had been since Duncan Inglebee was petrified.  Though he and Alec may have been dormmates, they weren’t friends.  Most of that was due to Romulus’s tendency to push people away.  Perhaps if Alec had been as persistent as Primrose, they would have been chums.  But instead, Alec had latched on to Inglebee, and now, Harry Potter.

 

After a satisfying meal consisting of mostly sausage and bacon, Romulus left the Great Hall.  The students came and went out of the main doors.  Although it was tempting to stay and keep a direct eye on Primrose, it made more sense to simply stay near the entry way.  He didn’t even have to watch it - he could busy himself with reading in a shadowy corner, and rely on his nose to guide him.  He sat on the floor, leaning his back against the cold stone of the walls.  He had his transfigurations textbook with him.  Despite his plans to keep an eye on Primrose and Harry, that didn’t mean he couldn’t be productive at the same time.

 

As the morning progressed, more and more students made their way towards the Great Hall.  He saw and smelled Harry Potter enter through doors in the late morning, but the Boy Who Lived didn’t notice Romulus.  He could smell the feathered serpent as well - the scent was ever present.  But at no point did the hairs on his neck stand on end.  Harry hid his powers well - if Romulus had never met him until now, he would have suspected nothing amiss.  Harry was surrounded by a large group of Gryffindors.  First to fourth years seemed to swarm around him, brimming with an eager energy.  They just looked so damned happy to be near him.  Even more ridiculous was the way that the Gryffindor ghost was fawning all over Harry..  The sight of it made Romulus grumpy.  It wasn’t that he ever wished for popularity - it wasn’t jealousy.  It was just that Romulus couldn’t help thinking that the admiration they had for Harry was fake.  Just a big lie created by the allure of his magic.  Worse - Harry was like a predatory plant that emitted a pleasant, entrancing odor.  Beneath that genial facade was danger.

 

But at least not everyone was charmed by the magnetic hero.  He could see a trio of second years - a redhead, a boy with sandy coloured hair, and a dark-haired boy - that were giving Harry wary glances.  Though in truth, the redhead (probably a Weasley, Romulus guessed) kept looking at Harry with a mix of longing, and then annoyance.  He figured that the boy had issues, and Romulus put him out of his mind.

 

Throughout the morning, students came and went from the Great Hall.  Romulus knew that most people at the Gryffindor Table (the part that he called the Harry Potter fanclub) were just socializing.  But there were some that brought their homework, enabling them to all work together and help eachother out.  Like some big, happy Hogwarts family.  Minus Slytherins.

 

That said, even if Slytherins didn’t join in at the Gryffindor Table, Romulus was aware that the Snakes were abuzz when it came to Harry Potter.  He couldn’t fail to miss the looks that they sent towards the Boy Who Lived.  Speculative glances that suggested that they knew something interesting about Harry.  Something that the rest of the school was unaware of.  And just as curious was the way that Professor Snape seemed to have that same awareness of Harry as well.

 

It wasn’t very comfortable for Romulus to force himself to remain in an area with such a high influx of students.  Perhaps under different circumstances, he would have resented having to be in this position.  It helped that Romulus knew that people paid little attention to him, and that he remained in a shadowy area.  He was just some non-descript first year, and a quiet one at that.  Hours plodded by with heavy slowness.  

 

He finished his readings in transfiguration, and was now working on a paper for Defence.  Unable to find a replacement professor, the Ministry of Magic had sent over one of the Aurors to teach the students.  The Auror, one Elfrida Greystone, was well versed in all the material.  Nonetheless she was a terrible teacher, with a penchant for explaining simple concepts in a convoluted way.  Students that walked out of her classroom often looked like they were suffering bad headaches.

 

At some point, Luna ended up wandering off on her own.  She saw him in his shadowy spot, scowling over the essay.  Noticing her scent, he looked up, and she gave him an absent wave.  He tilted his head at her, and she smiled before disappearing.  Romulus pursed his lips.  He should really talk to her sometime, but decided to do so after the weekend had passed.  This weekend, following Primrose and Harry was more important.

 

Saturday ended up being a waste of a day.  True, Romulus got all his homework done (and even some extra on top of that.)  He even managed to finish the biography he was reading, and started on a book on basic theory behind curses.  However, his legs and bum ached from spending so much time on the stone floor.  It wasn’t until late Sunday afternoon that Primrose drew up the runic circle for Harry.  Romulus was thankful that the pair decided to do so in a dead-end hallway rather than in the Come and Go room.  It would have been too conspicuous to try and follow Primrose and her brother there.

 

Romulus noted that Luna was absent.  He knew that Luna had been the one to teach the configuration to Primrose.  For some reason, it annoyed him that Luna wouldn’t even get to to see the results of all her efforts.  With a frown, Romulus decided he would tell her about it later.  He was sure that she would want to know.  And in truth, talking to Luna wasn’t that bad - half the time he didn’t understand what she was referencing.  But she never seemed to mind if he wasn’t listening.  

 

Romulus also noted the absence of the feathered serpent.  Today, the scent was only that of Harry.  He had heard Primrose mention that the presence of the creature called Sephtis would interfere with the results.  On top of that, Romulus had the feeling that the feathered serpent has a nose almost as sharp as his own.  He knew that snakes had excellent olfactory abilities.  It was a plausible explanation for why Harry seemed to avoid trouble so easily.  Either way, Romulus was relieved that the feathered serpent was nowhere in range.  Harry seemed less threatening when it was gone.

 

 “What are you using to draw the runes?” Harry asked in low tones, as Romulus listened around the corner.

 

 “The juice of pori-pori berries, mixed with ectoplasm and a touch of black salt.  The berries because of their properties of -”

 

 “Sensing levels of spiritual subtleties, as well as the juice’s ability to become invisible under the right circumstances?” Harry finished.  Romulus couldn’t hear Primrose’s reply so he assumed she had nodded.

 

 “And all I have to do is stand in it?” Harry asked.

 

 “Yeah.  But let me go first, to make sure it works.  Luna and I tried it when she helped me draw it out, and it had no reaction.  That means -”

 

 “No possession.  Right.”

 

 “Mm.  Well, technically, it senses two spirits in the same body, but that’s the same thing, I think.  Some of the books hinted otherwise, but none of them clarified.  So I suppose we’ll just assume it means the same thing,” Primrose added.  There was silence for a while - over an hour, as Primrose drew the circle on the stone floor.  Romulus could see soft pulses of colour that flashed and then disappeared with each rune that Primrose added.  However, he had no intention of watching the entire creation process - the longer he watched, the greater the chance he would be caught.  Thus, he waited patiently for Primrose to finish.  He would look when Harry stepped into the circle.

 

 “Okay.  That’s the last one.  It should - there -” There was a final glow of purplish-blue that quickly faded out.  

 

 “Wow - it’s completely invisible now,” Harry said, with a touch of awe.  There was a silence, and Romulus could imagine Primrose nodding.

 

 “In most cases, spirits who possess others don’t want to their existence to be detected.  Thus the necessity for stealth to unveil a possessing spirit.  Although there are some cases when people will willingly choose to be possessed.  There are a lot of old magic rituals that are enhanced by the presence of grounded spirits - certain druidic rituals, ancestral magics or oracular magics.  People don’t really do it anymore, I don’t think.  At least not here in Britain,” Primrose explained.  “Anyway, let me try it.”

 

Romulus heard soft steps, as Primrose entered the runic circle.  “There!  Nothing.”  He heard a smile in her voice.  “Your turn, Harry.”

 

Romulus peeked around the corner, as Harry neared the circle.  He knew that if Harry carried two spirits, the runes were supposed to glow purple.  And if Harry was just Harry, then the runes would remain invisible.  There seemed to be a flicker as Harry crossed into the circle.  The runes glowed.  But not purple.  The light from them was a dark, blackish red.  Romulus didn’t know what it meant, but he didn’t like it.  He pulled away from the corner.

 

 “That’s - weird,” he heard Primrose say.  “If you were carrying another spirit, it should be purple.  But that definitely didn’t look purple.  I wonder if the runes are reacting to the curse in your scar.  Oh Harry - don’t be upset!”

 

 “It’s okay, Rosie - yeah, you might be right.  It’s probably just the scar.  But hey - at least it’s just that right?”

 

 “Hm - well - I guess we can throw the possessed hypothesis out the window,” Primrose said.  Romulus frowned.  She was giving up too easily.  But Romulus wasn’t surprised.  He had his own plans to research the matter, starting with finding out what the blackish-red colour meant.

 

While he was tempted to rush off to the library or Come and Go Room to do research, he remained near Primrose and Harry.  There was the chance that they might have something else planned, and he did not want to miss anything.  It turned out to be unnecessary.  All Primrose and Harry did was walk around for a bit and then call their godfather.  However, he did learn that Remus was spending a lot of time at Grimmauld Place.  He knew that his adopted father was now working as a partner to Sirius Black.  Remus had written to him about some of the projects the pair of them were working on.  However, Remus didn’t mention that he stayed nights at Grimmauld Place.  Romulus filed away the information, to ask Remus about later.  Perhaps Remus just found their flat too cramped.  Primrose’s home did have a lot of spare rooms after all.

 

When Romulus finally had a chance to reference the book on possessions, he was disappointed to discover that the book gave no other details other than mentioning the purple glow.  It meant that instead of an easy answer, he would have to do extensive research on runes himself.  The only problem was that Romulus knew almost nothing about runes.  While he could have cracked open a book and started on research, he decided he’d save time by just speaking to Luna.  Even if she didn’t the answers, she could direct his research.

 

Romulus’s chance did not come until Tuesday.  Even with the sharpness of his sense of smell, Luna had a remarkable ability to simply vanish.  He would have suspected magic, but he never detected the presence of it around Luna.  Aside from classes or homework, she seemed to refrain from using magic.  Though there was a chance that she was using such low levels of magic that it blended into to the overall magical atmosphere of Hogwarts.  He wouldn’t put it past her.  Romulus could have spoken to Luna in class, but he had no desire to speak about the things he learned in front of other people - especially not Primrose.  He didn’t think she’d appreciate knowing that she had been followed.

 

He found her when she was leaving the dungeons on Tuesday, after finishing Potions.  It was fortunate that she was hanging back to examine the stonework on the walls.  Romulus would have found it awkward to pull her away from Primrose.  Primrose knew that he usually avoided conversing with the other girl.  

 

The blonde girl seemed to be counting the stones in what looked like a regular pattern.  She followed this up by jangling her bracelet with seven rotations of her wrist after every five steps.  The bracelet looked like it was made with quill nibs.  He wondered how she didn’t end up with her wrist in scratches from the nibs.  Rather than interrupting her, he continued to let her work.  Whatever she was doing almost appeared like some sort of applied arithmancy.  All the while, the dreamy expression never left her face.  She reached the end of the corridor and then stopped.  Her protuberant grey eyes peered up at Romulus and she tilted her head, causing her radish-like earrings to sway.

 

 “I think I’ve found the pattern,” Luna said airily.  “But I don’t think arithmancy is what you came to speak to me about, is it.”  Romulus shook his head.  Luna smiled mysteriously, and then gripped the sleeve of his robe.

 

 “Come on.  We can check the Birshmoop feeders while we talk,” she said, as she pulled him along.  “You wouldn’t happen to have marmalade on you, by any chance?”  Romulus shook his head again.

 

 “Hm.  Oh well, that’s alright.”  Luna fell silent as she led him through the twists and turns of Hogwarts.  As they climbed a set of stairs, she spoke.

 

 “Rosie keeps hearing a snake in the walls.  You’ll keep a sharp nose out for it, won’t you?”  Luna asked.  Romulus had no idea what to say to that.  He had never mentioned anything about his sense of smell to her.  Unlike Primrose, Luna did not know that his adopted father was a werewolf.  He felt a sudden edginess, but then she looked back at him with a guileless smile and he relaxed.  Luna was Luna.  Nothing about her was threatening at all.

 

 “Er - I guess.  Yeah.  Yeah, I’m looking out for her,” He said awkwardly.  Luna nodded.  They fell back into silence.  She reached an unadorned wall, and then sang softly at the stones.  A passageway opened up, and she slipped in.  Kneeling down, she picked up large clamshell, filled with marmalade.  He could tell by the smell, even if he couldn’t see it.  The passageway was quite dark after all.  While Luna examined the marmalade, she tilted her ear towards him, as though expecting him to speak.

 

 “Erm -” Romulus started.  This was not how he expected to broach the conversation.  But then again, Luna was rather unconventional, even by Ravenclaw standards.  He could see the edge of her lips tilt upwards, which encouraged him.

 

 “Primrose drew the runic circle,” he said.  Luna set down the clamshell.  Then she stood up and turned to face him.  Her expression was intent.

 

 “Purple?” She asked.  Romulus shook his head.  They watched each other for a few heartbeats, as though trying to read information from each other’s eyes.

 

 “Primrose hasn’t told you anything, has she?” Romulus asked.  A slight frown marred Luna’s face, and she dropped her gaze downwards.

 

 “I wasn’t expecting her to,” Luna replied, her voice barely above a whisper.  He could hear sadness in her words and his feelings mirrored her own.  He was aware that Luna spent more time with Primrose.  She often sat with Primrose and Harry in the Great Hall after all.  But Romulus had noticed that even amidst that crowd, she looked like an outsider.

 

 “It was - a mixed red and black,” Romulus said.  Luna’s eyes widened as she looked up at him.

 

 “You know what it means?” Romulus asked.  

 

Luna shook her head. “No.  But it means something.  Runic frameworks or spells - if done perfectly - don’t create accidental results.  The only impact a witch or wizard’s magic has on the runes is the power of the final result.  I know Rosie would have done the circle perfectly.  We worked on it together.  I know she understood.  She would have entered the circle first, and saw that it worked.”

 

Romulus nodded.  He had heard Primrose say that she was entering the circle. 

 

 “I might not be able to find the answers you want,” Luna continued.  “Yes, the unusual colour would mean something, but magic has a way of - hm - doing unique and unexpected things.  If Harry had a unique reaction to the circle, then the answers won’t be in any books, I’m afraid.  But I’ll try and see what I can find for you.”

 

Romulus held Luna’s grey eyes for a moment. “Thank you,” he said finally.  “You - you’re a good friend.”

  
Luna smiled, but her smile was coloured with with a soft sorrow.  “So are you, Romulus.”  


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have many one more chapter before I kinda felt too lost to continue this story. Not that I don't have the outline planned out - I do. But I couldn't get into Rosie's head and it was too hard to write.

March came a week later, and though only a short amount of time had passed, it felt like a lifetime to Romulus.  During breakfast in the Great Hall, there were rumours that the Board of Governors were voting for a new Headmaster to replace Professor Dumbledore.  The students were babbling and gossiping with a sense of anticipation.  It was a momentous occasion to have a new Headmaster.  There were many students who felt that Professor Dumbledore couldn’t possibly be replaced.  Others were thrilled with the notion of change.  At the Slytherin table, the blond second year, Draco radiated smugness.  Rumours were that his father was the Chairman of the Board, and considering Draco’s reaction, it was quite possible.

 

Romulus was speaking to Luna with greater frequency.  Or perhaps it was more accurate to say that Luna would vocalize her strange ruminations.  Meanwhile he would actually listen to her instead of walking away.  She had made little headway in interpreting the reddish black colour from the runic circle.  However, she had warned him of this, so he did not get his hopes up.  

 

Romulus found himself making a greater effort to engage Primrose in class.  And on the surface, things appeared the same.  Primrose always acted in an attentive manner.  She spoke as though she cared about his opinions and thoughts.  But some part of her always seemed far away.  Her hazel green eyes reflected whatever lay in her heart, and whatever it was, it wasn’t with him.  What made it worse was that she acted so cursedly happy.  She reminded him of a bright-eyed squirrel that had just come across an immense cache of nuts.  He felt villainous for not being happy about her happiness.

 

Primrose also seemed to no longer spend her time in the Ravenclaw Nest, and she was almost never alone.  In a way, it was good - she was better able to avoid Toby, Marietta and Sarah.  As long as Primrose was surrounded by Harry’s friends, the Ravenclaws could not reach her.  Yet, it was curious.  Romulus would have thought that Toby would be more annoyed by the loss of his one of his Eagles.  That was, until Romulus caught the way that Toby would glance towards Harry during meals in the Great Hall.  During those occasional moments, Toby’s expression was one of intense enjoyment.  A frightening half-smile would tug at his lips, and Toby’s black eyes took on a shining glow.  Anything that made Toby happy made Romulus nervous.  Toby seemed like the sort of person who would vanish away the half the limbs of a kitten, just to see it wobble and fall on it’s face.

 

Romulus tried on multiple occasions to speak to Primrose after class.  She was his friend, and it bothered him that she would brush him off with such casual ease.  Except she always made him feel as though he was the one at fault.  

 

 “Why don’t you just come with me and Luna and hang out with Harry?  There’s so many of us there - you’re bound to meet someone you like.  You know, Hermione’s really smart.  You can talk about potions with her,” Primrose would say.  She’d look at him, exasperated, like he was behaving like a spoiled, overindulged wizard.  And then he would wonder, ‘Why am I still even trying?’  But then he would keep trying anyway.  In moments of weakness, he would wonder if she was right.  Maybe he should just spend time with Harry and his tribe.

 

 “What happened to your research on your brother?  Have you tried any more spells to detect his curse?” Romulus would ask.  At which point Primrose would become either defensive or confused.  Her hazel eyes would cloud over, and she would bite her lip, staring anywhere except at Romulus’s face.  And of course, she had i _ mportant things _ to do, and couldn’t stay and talk.

 

Primrose was even beginning to skip their defence practices in the Come and Go Room.  Sometime she would claim she had forgotten (even though she never forgot before).  Other times, she would use busyness as an excuse.  But even on the days that she did train with him, her efforts were half-hearted.  Romulus found the entire thing demotivating.

 

The full moon fell on the second Monday of March.  Transformation usually felt like a release.  In truth, it was a painful release, as his bones and muscle shifted, and tawny hair sprouted from his skin.  But at the same time, he liked escaping from human troubles and living on instincts instead.  Running, hunting, baying at the moon.  It was a reprieve from himself.  The scents in the Forest always fascinated him.  There was so much there: the rich earthiness of the soil, the crisp smell of green foliage, the sweet fragrance of the unicorns, the muskiness of the centaurs.  

 

During this time of the month, the Forest felt like his home in a way Hogwarts did not.  He knew the trees, knew the inhabitants.  He didn’t care what anyone thought of him - the concept didn’t even exist.  Only surviving and feeding.  Racing the wind and lapping icy water from the inky dark streams.  Yet this month, he found that he couldn’t enjoy himself.  As a werewolf, thoughts did not solidify in his mind.  Just primal instincts and emotions.  He was left with just the persistent sense that his packmate was in trouble.  He whined as he sniffed at every root and bush, hoping to find something to sink his teeth into that would take away his instinctive worries.  His muscles twitched with the need to do something.  But there was nothing he could do. 

 

When he finally transformed back into his human form, he was trembling with exhaustion.  For the first time in the entire school year, he skipped his classes and slept instead.  His dreams that night were filled with the nameless threats of a great predator, snapping at his heels.

 

The new Headmaster was announced later that week.  It made the front page of the  _ Daily Prophet _ , with the peppery-haired Headmaster’s photo splashed across the front.  His name was Praxiteles Mole.  One of his ancestors had been a Headmistress of Hogwarts back in the 1800s.  He had given a speech to the curious students during his welcoming dinner.  Professor Mole told them about how he had been an Arithmancy Master and teacher.  He had taught at Hogwarts years ago, before moving to the continent and teaching at Beauxbatons.  After over a decade, he moved back to Britain and devoted several years to research and experimentation.  And now, here he was, sitting in the chair that Professor Dumbledore used to sit in.  His robes were a subdued shade of earthy roan, rather than flamboyant purple.  He did not wear any spectacles, his beard was short and neatly trimmed.  And he looked very, very serious.

 

Without Professor Dumbledore’s nonsensical humour to lighten the mood, the students were bewildered and subdued.  Even Draco Malfoy at the Slytherin table had lost his smug expression.  Instead, there was a measured look in his eyes.  Perhaps he, like the other Slytherins, were wondering how they could use the situation to their advantage.  At least many of the Ravenclaws were looking optimistic.  Many of them had bemoaned the quality of education, and were eager for a change.  

 

Romulus found that he didn’t have strong feelings about the matter.  He had not been attached to Professor Dumbledore.  He knew that Remus looked up to the man, but Remus’s relationship had been more personal.  As far as Romulus could recall, he hadn’t even spoken to Professor Dumbledore once in all his life.  All that really mattered was his continuing education in Potions.  That and somehow figuring out how to get Primrose to go back to being herself.

 

A week later, after a particularly messy Herbology class in which the students had to collecting cuttings of the Belching Swamp Cinquefoil, Luna pulled Romulus aside, wanting to speak to him.  It took an effort not to contain his exasperation - both of them were covered in sludgy swamp muck, and Romulus longed to take a long shower.  Luna, of course, managed to look quite comfortable, covered in sludge.  (“It’s quite good for the skin, you know.” she had said.)  He didn’t point out that the sludge covered more of her clothes than her skin.

 

  “I’m going to go shower and then meet everyone at the Great Hall,” Primrose said, referring to Harry and his friends.  She was often one of the first to leave at the end of class, and today was no exception.   “Coming?”  She looked at both Luna and Romulus.

 

 “Mm.  Another time,” Luna said.  Romulus just pursed his lips and tried not to look too disapproving.

 

Primrose’s answering smile held a hint of mischief.  “I think you’re just afraid, Rom.  Give everyone a chance.  Well, talk to you too later!”

 

Romulus had no answer to that.  Because the truth was, he was afraid.  Just not for the reasons that Primrose assumed.  Well, perhaps a bit - he didn’t like being around too many people.  But mostly, it was just Harry and his little feathered serpent, and his strange predatory magnetism.

 

  “Come on,” Luna said, once Primrose had left.  “I want you to show me where Rosie drew the circle.”

 

Romulus was surprised that she hadn’t already found the runic framework.  Luna had a way of knowing things, and he had yet to figure out her methods. 

 

 “I should have asked sooner,” Luna continued in her light, dreamy voice.  “But Harry has a way of attracting wrackspurts, while still being immune to them.  The wrackspurts make it hard for me and everyone around him to think.  But it’s curious.  I’ve been wanting to know what confers that immunity to Harry, but I have a feeling that the answer is - hm -”

 

Romulus looked at Luna, waiting for her to finish her thought.  But her expression was distant, and a bit pensive.  He wanted to know what she thought of Harry.  At the same time, he had a feeling that he wouldn’t understand her explanations.  It was rare for him to make sense of the things she said.  With a shrug, he left the greenhouse.  It was an overcast day, but most of the snow had melted.  More students were spending their time outdoors, eager to enjoy the fresh air of the upcoming spring.  He loved the way the air smelled - alive and expectant.

 

He took a side entrance into the castle.  Luna trailed closely behind.  Navigating the corridor and stairs, he led to her to the dark, dead-end hallway where Primrose had drawn the circle in pori-pori berry ink.  Since that day, he hadn’t returned to the site.  He knew next to nothing about runes.  Furthermore, he had heard Primrose mention that the circle would be invisible.  What would there be to see?

 

Luna crouched down, and examined the stone floor.  Her straggly blonde hair fell forward, obscuring her face.  She reached a hand forward, hesitating only for a second before she touched the ground.

 

 “It’s still here,” she said.  Interested in what she was examining, Romulus drew closer, and scanned the floor.  In faint, bluish lines, he could see the delicate traceries of the pattern.  Though it wasn’t something he would admit out loud, he found the pattern beautiful.  It had an interesting balanced quality that attracted the eye.  The juxtaposition of curves and sharp angles resulted in a complex elegance.

 

 “Shouldn’t this be - hm - invisible?” Romulus asked Luna.  She pulled her eyes away from the circle and met his eyes.

 

 “Yes.  And not only that, it should have long vanished.  This circle is meant to only last a day or two at most.  But I can still feel traces of magic.  Can’t you?” Luna asked.

 

There was magic all around, but as Romulus focused his senses, he realized that Luna was right.  There was a hint of magic emanating from the pattern.  He scowled at his own lack of attention.  He should have noticed it right away.  After all, he was a werewolf - he had greater magical sensitivity than normal witches or wizards.

 

Luna’s eyes sparkled with a quiet amusement.  She seemed to understand the reason for his annoyance.  “It’s alright if you didn’t notice.  It’s the type of magic that doesn’t want to be noticed - the invisibility wants to reassert itself.”

 

 “So - what does it all mean?” Romulus asked.

 

The sparkle in Luna’s eyes dimmed.  She looked back down at the circle, but she did not touch it again.  “It means that we’re dealing with something very powerful.  It’s attracting glomping-borbofors, so I think it’s something dark as well.”

 

Romulus looked around.  He couldn’t sense any creatures.  He stood up and crossed his arms.  The sludge, which had quickly dried on his robes started flaking off and making a mess.  Luna’s words did nothing to assure him.  Based on the scent in the area, only Primrose and Harry had been here recently.  Otherwise, all he could smell was the powdery, earthy odor of the stones.  He glanced down at the runes.  They had been drawn with some sort of berry ink, but he could smell nothing there.  Perhaps the invisibility of the circle extended to other senses, such as smell.

 

 “It’s Harry,” Romulus said, breaking the silence that had drifted down between them.  He said it as a statement, but meant it as a question.  He wanted to know Luna’s thoughts about Harry Potter.  He wanted to know if she was an ally.  Luna stood up, and dried muck flaked off her robes like bits of snow.  Her grey eyes seemed to have a prophetic quality.  In that moment, he found himself wishing to know what she saw - not just with Harry, but everything else.

 

 “I believe so,” she replied.  Her expression became distant.  “It scares me a bit, how much I want to like him.  It’s better not to look in his eyes.  But it also hurts to avoid them.”  

 

Romulus guessed that she was speaking about spending time at the Gryffindor Table.  It was the only time he saw Luna anywhere near Harry.

 

 “He - it - Harry can read hearts,” Luna continued.  “Not by magic, necessarily, but there is that as well.  He watches everyone and everything.  He knows what people wants, and when you’re near him, you believe you can have it.  It feels like love, but I don’t think it is.  It feels like love, and that’s why everyone wants it.”  Luna’s eyes shone with intensity as she looked at him.  “Don’t go near him, Romulus.  Or the wrackspurts will get you too.  Let me be the one to do that.  Look out for Rosie.  She needs us.”  Luna looked away, towards the open end of the hallway.

 

 “I have to go.  I’m almost finished that hat.  Keep your nose out for snakes.”  With that, Luna drifted off, leaving Romulus alone with his thoughts.

 

His conversation with Luna didn’t offer any useful information.  Romulus still felt both better and worse after speaking to her.  Better because he felt like she was on his side.  Worse because she had confirmed that his fears about Harry weren’t all in his head.  And worse yet because Luna had the courage to be near Harry and resist him, while Romulus didn’t have that courage at all.  Still, it strengthened his resolve to do something.  To help both Primrose and Luna.

 

It was past mid-March, and life had settled into some semblance of peace.  Pranks were kept to a minimum.  Antagonism between Gryffindors and Slytherins were limited to snide insults that rarely escalated into anything more.  The new headmaster, though not severe, seemed to have no sense of humour.  His austere demeanour infiltrated the consciousness of the students.  Professor Mole was very serious about education.  There was even talks that Professor Binn would be replaced with an actual, living and breathing Professor.  The majority of the Ravenclaws were thrilled - even more so when they discovered that Professor Mole hat been a Ravenclaw himself.

 

Romulus was in the Great Hall for waiting for supper.  He was sitting next to Primrose, while Luna sat on her other side.  Suppers at the Great Hall seemed quieter ever since Professor Mole took over the post of Headmaster.  It was especially noticeable at the Gryffindor Table.  However, those that sat near Harry seemed to take strength from his presence.  They appeared happier than the rest.  But at the Ravenclaw table, there was an air of excitement.  The Eagles discussed their hopes for the new History of Magic Professor.  There was also speculation about how they would even get rid of Professor Binns.  Would Professor Mole just announce it to the ghost?  How would Professor Binns react?  A few Ravenclaws were of the belief that Professor Binns would move on to the next realm.  Some thought that he would have a fit, and start haunting the school in earnest.  More than one Ravenclaw saw it as an excellent research opportunity into the nature of ghosts.

 

Before any food magically appeared at the tables, Professor Mole had stood up at the Head Table.  He was wearing gray robes that were a shade darker than a stormy sky.  His expression was expectant.  The headmaster seemed to believe that his position afford him complete respect.  His pale eyes swept across the Hall, assessing the maturity of the students with silent judgement.  The chatter died down to a hush, like the end of a wind storm.

 

  “I have an announcement to make,” the headmaster said, when he was certain of everyone’s attention.  The Ravenclaws sat taller in their seats.  No doubt expecting to hear about the teacher that would replace Professor Binns.  Or, just as good, the teacher that would replace the Auror Greystone.  She may have been an excellent auror, but she was an abysmal teacher.

 

 “It has come to my attention that one of the students here at Hogwarts is a werewolf,” Professor Mole continued.  His mouth pulled into a hard line, and his pale eyes expressed displeasure.  “Unlike the previous headmaster, I am of the opinion that those afflicted with such - conditions - should make their identity known to the student body.  It is grossly unfair to allow the other students to take such a risk, not knowing who to watch out for.  I expect the student to make their way to my office after supper.  That is all.”

 

Professor Mole sat down, but his words had left the Great Hall silent.  Romulus flicked a panicked glance at the other teachers sitting at the Head Table.  He knew that they knew of his identity as a werewolf.  From the grimaces or sympathetic expressions on their faces, they had not revealed their knowledge to the new headmaster.  How did the man find out?  Did one of the students rat him out?

 

Romulus looked down the table at Toby Woodbridge.  The fourth year met his eyes and his smile was cruel.  But he shook his head slightly, as if to say ‘it wasn’t me.’  The silence in the Great Hall soon turned into a low hum.  He could hear snatches of words: horrible, scary, awful, dangerous.  Students were looking at each other with mistrust.  Whispers to friends and pointed fingers soon followed.  Anyone whose behaviour had been questionable, anyone who was a loner, anyone who had a tendency to disappear.  Behaviour that had seemed benign was now grounds for suspicion.

 

Edine and Sakiko who sat across from him looked pale.  They kept darting glances at him before looking away.  Alec Perriss who sat on his other side attempted to edge away.  If he was trying to be inconspicuous, he was failing miserably.  But Romulus wasn’t the only one to receive frightened looks.  It seemed that every House had one or two students that didn’t quite fit in.  With the headmaster’s announcement, the alienation would only increase.

 

Supper that night was strangely tasteless, and Romulus couldn’t finish more than half of what was on his plate.  Few of the students lingered in the Great Hall that night.  The students clung together in groups, as though the presence of their friends could somehow shield them from a werewolf’s curse.  Anyone unfortunate enough to have no friends were looked at with a kind of horror.

 

Primrose kept glancing over at him with a worry evident on her face.  He could tell that she was trying to act normal, as though she did not want to give away his secret.  In a way, it made him feel better.  Knowing that she actually cared about him made the situation more tolerable.  He waited for both Primrose and Luna to finish their meal before getting up to leave.

 

Once they were out of the Hall and in the corridors, Primrose spoke.  “Are you okay, Rom?”  Her voice was low and quiet.  She had rested a hand on his arm, and her eyes shone with sympathy.

 

Romulus pursed his lips.  He didn’t really know how to answer.  He didn’t feel alright.  But he also wasn’t panicked or frightened.  If this had happened in the fall, he would have owled Remus in an instant, requesting to go home.  But now, there were things tethering him to Hogwarts.  His education.  His friends.  If the whole school found out that he was the werewolf, would he want to stay?  He met Primrose’s and the Luna’s eyes.  And he decided that yes, he would still brave the ostracism and stay.

 

 “I’ll be alright,” Romulus said.  His words sounded a bit wooden, and he wasn’t sure if he meant them.  But he knew he would try.

 

 “Luna and I will both support you,” Primrose said.  “No matter what anyone else says.”

 

 “So sure I’m the werewolf?” He didn’t know why he would even deny it at this point.  Perhaps he just needed to know how strong Primrose and Luna’s suspicions were.

 

Luna smiled, in her enigmatic way.  “Our support is unconditional.  But don’t worry, we won’t be too disappointed if you’re  _ not _ the werewolf.”

 

Luna’s words caused Romulus to crack a small smile.  “I’ll try not to let you down,” he murmured, feeling a bit surprised that he had even replied.

 

Luna’s jest had soothed their frayed nerves, and the three of them were all smiling.  In that moment, Romulus felt an ache in his chest and a prickle in his throat.  He was with his pack, and they would stand by him, no matter what happened. 

 

Romulus did not go to the headmaster’s office that evening, nor any of the evenings in the week after.  Primrose made more of an effort to do her homework with him in the Ravenclaw Nest.  However, she still spent much of her time with Harry and his friends.  He appreciated her effort, but there was no denying that it wasn’t the same.  The placid contentment she had once felt while studying with him was gone.  She was able to act patient and willing, but Romulus could tell that it was still an act.  It was Harry that she wanted to be with.  He and Luna had come to a sort of unspoken accord.  The blonde still had a habit of wandering off, and she still spent a lot of time with Primrose and Harry.  But now, she often had a ready smile for Romulus, and a tendency to offer strange gifts (“Here’s a speckled stone I found by the lake.  It reminded me of you.”  “This root has a really interesting shape.  I thought you’d appreciate it.”)  He could never quite bring himself to vocalize what her kindness meant to him.

 

Most of the other Ravenclaw first years gave him a wide berth.  Edine and Sakiko acted downright frightened of him.  Meanwhile Alec treated him with an uncomfortable, artificial niceness.  It was a relief that most of the older Ravenclaws paid him no heed.  Many of them had their own hypotheses about who the werewolf was.  Romulus was only one of multiple possible candidates.

 

As for Professor Mole, the headmaster looked increasingly grim with each passing day.  He seemed to carry himself with an air of heavy disappointment.  It was as though he really expected the werewolf to just saunter into his office and announce him or herself.  Thus, a week after his first announcement, the headmaster made a new one.

 

 “Attention, students,” he said to the already silent Great Hall.  “I am gravely disappointed that that no one has come forward regarding last week’s announcement.  It is a sign of great responsibility to come forth when you have a condition that could affect the rest of the student body.  I am loathed to do this, however, I feel there is no choice.  If any students knows who the werewolf is, please come to my office and speak to me.  And of course, House Points shall be awarded for your responsible deed.”

 

Once again, the students were stunned silent by the announcement.  The loners, misfits and oddballs of the school felt a cold fear in their bellies.  The bullies, the small-minded and the bigots were wide-eyed with malicious excitement.  Inter-house animosity began to flare up anew.  And after the petrification and pranks, the cracks of mistrust widened between all the students.  

 

It took only three days before Romulus’s lycanthropy was discovered.  But it was a hellish three days, not only for Romulus, but for all the students.  It became a new insult in the school, to call each other halfbreeds or werewolves.  Anyone unfortunate enough to be too much of a loner was beset by other students, and if not attacked, then they were jeered at and told to leave Hogwarts.  Luna had stopped her solitary wanderings.  She and Primrose stuck by Romulus like glue, to ensure that he was never alone in the corridors.   Romulus felt trapped in an inescapable pit of apprehension.  His sleep had been fitful, and his stomach felt constricted.  With either Luna or Primrose at his side, there were never any shadows for him to hide in.  Every odor that assailed his nose smelled of danger. Everyone smelled of either fear or aggression.  Yet, when his lycanthropy became known, the situation became magnitudes worse.

 

The discovery of his identity had not been sprung on him like an unwanted surprise.  There had been no pointed fingers, nor a dramatic unveiling.  It had been a wednesday and he had just finished Herbology.  Before he could leave with Primrose and Luna, Professor Sprout asked him to stay behind.

 

 “We’ll wait outside for you,” Primrose said softly.  She and Luna wore matching expressions of worry.  Romulus nodded.  He hoped he didn’t look as haunted as he felt.

 

When all the students had left, Professor Sprout shut the door of greenhouse one, and laid a gentle hand on Romulus’s shoulder.  Her lips were pursed, but her eyes reflected kind sadness.

 

 “The headmaster wishes to speak to you, Lupin,” she said.  Her voice didn’t hold the usual briskness.  “You’re a good lad, and all of us know it.  Don’t forget that we are on your side.  The password is  _ prudentia _ .”  Professor Sprout gave Romulus’s shoulder a gentle squeeze before sending him on his way.

 

 “What did she want?” Primrose asked, once he had left the greenhouse.

 

 “I have to go to the headmaster’s office,” Romulus said grimly.  Primrose and Luna shared a wide-eyed look.  Primrose wove her arm around his.

 

  “We’ll come with you,” she said firmly.  The walk up to the headmaster’s office was silent.  Romulus felt like he had eels squirming in his belly.  His hands were uncomfortably clammy, and though he knew otherwise, it felt like everyone was staring at him.

 

The rest of his memories were a blur.  He remembered the heavy sounding knock on the headmaster’s door.  He remembered the wide, circular space of the office, and the smell of books all around him.  He remembered the pale eyes of the headmaster.  Those eyes couldn’t quite mask the contempt behind them.  He remembered a wand being pointed at him, but he didn’t know if he backed away or not.  For a moment, he thought his death had come.  But then he saw a pale yellow light shooting at him, and he felt a strange, coarse friction that seemed to rub his skin raw.  The headmaster’s eyes narrowed.  Then a long admonishment about responsibility, restraint, fairness, protection (of the students, not of Romulus), and disappointment.  There were many other, very heavy sounding and long words thrown in.  Something about an announcement at supper.  And then he was dismissed.  For some reason, the word ‘dismissed’ rang with a clarity that the other words didn’t have.

 

When he left the office, Luna and Primrose were all sympathy and compassion but he couldn’t recall anything they said.  He didn’t know if he had replied to their questions.  He didn’t even know how he made it back to the Ravenclaw Nest.  But then Luna had hugged him, and then Primrose hugged him as well.  It felt like a warm blanket draped over his heart.  After that, a shred of calmness returned.

 

At supper that night, Romulus’s appetite was absent.  Walking into the Great Hall had felt like a walk to the gallows.  There had been a large increase of sapphires in the Ravenclaw hourglass that counted House points.   It meant that a Ravenclaw had been the informant.  Romulus knew that it hadn’t been either of his friends, and he doubted that it was Toby.  This sort of behaviour was not Toby’s typical approach.  Guessing from the half frightened and half vindictive looks from Edine and Sakiko, it was one of them.  The two girls had always been scared of him.  Even if they tried to hide it, he was always able to smell their nervousness.  He knew that neither of the girls had actually known that he was a werewolf.  He had a feeling that they had just chosen to lash out at him because of his friendship with both Primrose and Luna.  Unlike Alec, neither Edine or Sakiko sat at Harry’s table, and both girls had rather envious personalities.

 

Romulus had been expecting the worse, and yet somehow, his idea of the worse failed to encompass how the experience actually felt.  He had imagined all sorts of scenarios.  Being expelled (which would be unfortunate, but he felt he could tolerate it.)  Being laughed at.  But most students didn’t find lycanthropy funny, so it seemed unlikely.  Being stared at.  That was sure to happen, no matter how things turned out.  Having food thrown at him.  He had a feeling he could dodge bread rolls and bits of vegetables with ease.

 

What made the experience worse was the sheer reality of it.  The fact that it wasn’t something playing out in his head, but that it was something real.  The headmaster had stood up at the Head Table.  His jaw held a firm, but satisfied resolve.  He had been wearing deep red robes - more dramatic than his usual neutral colours.  The colour reminded Romulus of spilled blood, and it seemed almost apt.

 

  “Attention, students,” He had called out, in his commanding voice.  Nevermind that all eyes were already on him.  It seemed like Professor Mole’s standard greeting.  “As you well know, Hogwarts has been harbouring a lycanthrope.  While I am disappointed that this student has chosen not to reveal himself, you will be glad to know that he has been found.  Romulus Lupin.  Please stand up.”

 

All eyes at the Ravenclaw table turned to him.  Edine and Sakiko’s eyes were wide with both fear and shock that they had been right.  Primrose had rested a gentle hand on his arm, but the small touch brought no relief.  On shaky limbs, he stood up, and faced the headmaster.  He had no desire to catch the response of the other students.  There was no need to see the disgust or fright in their eyes.  He could already smell it in the air.

 

 “I understand that having a lycanthrope in our illustrious school may cause some of you to question the security measures here at Hogwarts,” Professor Mole continued.  “Rest assured, the staff here will make sure that all of you are safe.  If at anytime you feel threatened, be sure to tell me or any of the other Professors, and we will deal with the problem immediately.  Your Heads of Houses will provide counseling to any of you that are uncomfortable with the situation, and we will do all we can to accommodate you.”

 

When the headmaster sat down, Romulus sat down as well.  Alec had managed to shuffle as far away as possible from him.  Edine and Sakiko looked pale and horrified.  Next to him, Primrose was glaring at the other students for daring to look at him askance.  However, with the entire Great Hall looking at him, there was little that her angry looks could do.

 

A low hum spread throughout the Great Hall, increasing in volume as the students discussed the new discovery.  Romulus could feel the ponderous weight of their antagonism settling on him.  In a distant and morbid way, he found himself wondering whether he would survive the school year.  He was unable to eat a single bite of his dinner that night.

 

When he returned to the Ravenclaw Nest with Primrose and Luna, Professor Flitwick was waiting for him.  The Head of House’s expression was sorrowful, as he pulled Romulus aside.

 

 “I’m truly sorry about this, Mr. Lupin,” Professor Flitwick had said, as though he had been personally responsible, and not the headmaster.  “You’re to be given a separate room.  Follow me.  Your trunks have already been moved.”

 

Romulus followed Professor Flitwick out of the common room and down the stairs.  He wondered if he had been shuffled away into some isolated, unused portion of the castle.  However, his room was only corner away.  Unlike the Ravenclaw common room with it’s eagle door knocker, there was only a tapestry of a soaring hippogriff.

 

  “Wisdom and Strength,” the diminutive professor said to the tapestry.  The hippogriff tilted its head with regal hauteur.  It flew to the edge of the tapestry and gripped it with it’s beak, before soaring off.  This caused the tapestry pulled itself to the left, revealing an open door behind it.  Romulus found it rather interesting that it required a passphrase and not a riddle.  He hadn’t given much thought to how the other Houses kept their common rooms protected from other students.

 

Though the room was along an internal wall of the castle, it had an enchanted window that provided a view of the forest.  There was a neat bed, in shades of yellow and blue, rather than the traditional Ravenclaw colours.  One wall was covered with a tapestry that showed a mountainous landscape.  Romulus’s trunk sat at the foot of the bed.  Beneath the window was a large wooden desk, and next to it, a bookshelf.  There was a door that led to a small bathroom.

 

  “Ah - it’s a bit small, isn’t it?” Professor Flitwick commented.  “We transfigured an old storage room.  I am truly very sorry about this, Mr. Lupin.  If you wish to talk, my office is always open to you.”  Professor Flitwick’s eyes did not twinkle with his customary humour.  It was unusual to see such a grave expression on his face.

 

 “I - I’ll be alright,” Romulus said, a trifle stiffly.  He liked his Head of House, but he wasn’t accustomed to confiding in anyone.  The Professor reached up and patted his arm, though he could only reach Romulus’s elbow.  He gave Romulus a final sad look before saying good night, shutting the door behind him.

 

That night, Romulus’s sleep was longer than usual.  His previous nights had been so fitful that he needed the sleep.  The knowledge that he had his own space seemed to provide a feeling of security.  The following day, he felt a shred of optimism when he saw Primrose and Luna waiting for him at the base of the Ravenclaw Tower.  Both of them gave him a hug, and checked him over, as though he had been physically injured.  As the trio walked towards the Great Hall for breakfast, they asked him about his new room.  He promised that he would show them later.  Luna was particularly interested in the enchanted window.

 

When he entered the Great Hall, he was aware of the stares of the other students.  None of them seemed to feel the need to hide their goggling.  Primrose and Luna, who stood on each side of him, pressed closer to him.  He was aware that it looked like he was being protected by two girls.  If he were anything other than a werewolf, the other students would have jeered and laughed.  Most boys would have felt humiliated to be guarded by girls.  However, Romulus wasn’t like most boys.  He was simply glad to have packmates to stand by him.

 

They sat down at the Ravenclaw table.  Instead of having Primrose on one side, and Alec on the other, he found himself between his two friends.  Alec looked rather queasy when he saw Romulus.  Edine and Sakiko had lost all colour.  It was rather satisfying to see that the girls were afraid of him.  He had lost all respect for them long ago.  If indeed they were the ones who revealed his secret, he hoped that they would suffer for it somehow.

 

The owls swooped into the Great Hall with the morning post.   When students started unfurling their newspapers, he was alarmed at headlines of the  _ Daily Prophet. _  It was easy to forget about the outside world while he was at Hogwarts.  That didn’t mean that the outside world would forget about what happened at Hogwarts.  After last night’s announcement, there had been a flurry of students writing home to their parents about the shocking developments at their school.  Thus, it should have been no surprise that the newspapers would pick up on the story and report it.

 

WEREWOLF AT HOGWARTS, the headlines read.  And beneath that: ARE OUR STUDENTS SAFE?  Romulus didn’t want to know what had been written in the article.  Yet, at the same time, he needed to know.  Whatever information that was written in the  _ Prophet _ was being swallowed up by the students.  He knew that werewolves had an extremely negative reputation.  The only question was, how bad?

 

The article spent more time describing werewolves, and werewolf attacks than explaining anything about Romulus himself.  Though the information was nothing new, the piece was still inflammatory.  It was sensationalized and written in a way that was sure to inspire anger and fear, or perhaps both.  The news was all anyone could talk about it.

 

In classes that day, no one dared to sit near him, except for Primrose and Luna.  The professors tried to remind the students that Romulus was the same person that he had been all year.  However, logic wasn’t enough to combat fear.  In the halls, the students gave him a wide berth.  Wherever he went, he heard whispers, and received frightened looks.  It was uncomfortable, but the timidity of the other students was something that he could deal with.  What worried him was what would happen when that fear began to fade.  The students couldn’t remain scared indefinitely.  Eventually, they would get used to the idea, and then what?  Wasn’t it just a matter of time before they got the idea that it was better to destroy him than to fear him?

 

The thought made Romulus angry, and the anger meant scowls and dark looks.  Any student who chanced to glance his way ended up looking like startled rabbits, as though Romulus could turn into a snarling beast at any moment and eat them.  Romulus was left wondering if it would be better to cultivate their fear.  If they feared him, he might be safe.  If that fear turned into bravado, then the others would become predators, and he, their prey.  

 

After classes that day, he went to the library with Primrose and Luna.  Under the watchful eye of the librarian Madam Pince, the both Romulus and the other students were able to feel a tentative sort of security.  True, none of the students sat near their table, but it was hard to imagine anything bad happening in the library.  They were busy with readings, when Primrose jolted in her seat.  She looked down at her bookbag, which was resting against her leg.

 

  “I think Sirius is calling me.  I better go,” she said in hushed tones.  Luna and Romulus nodded.  Their friend slung her bag over her shoulder, and walked past the desks into the corridor.  A few minutes after leaving the library, Primrose returned.  

 

 “Sirius has Remus over.  He wants to talk to you,” Primrose informed Romulus softly.  She was holding what looked like rectangular mirror in her hand.  He had never seen it before, and looked at Primrose with puzzlement. Noticing the way he had looked at the mirror, Primrose explained how it worked.  

 

 “I’ll be back soon, Luna,” Primrose told the other girl, who nodded serenely.  Throwing his books into his schoolbag, Romulus stood and followed Primrose out of the library.  The found an empty classroom, and shut the door behind them.  She handed him the mirror.  Though Primrose had explained its magic, he was still surprised to see Remus’s (and Sirius’s) face.

 

 “Hello, cub,” Remus said.  His eyes were filled with warm concern.  “I read about what happened in the  _ Prophet _ .  Are you alright?”

 

Romulus didn’t know how to answer.  Remus was the one person that he could be completely open with.  But knowing that Sirius and Primrose was in the room inhibited him.  Primrose, sensed his hesitation.

 

 “I’m going back to the library,” she told him.  “Just bring me back the mirror when you’re done.”  She seemed to read the relief on his face, and smiled at him before leaving the room.

 

 “I’m - I’m not sure how I feel yet,” Romulus said to Remus in the mirror.  “I don’t know what’s going to happen.”  No matter how vague Romulus’s words were, Remus always seemed to understand him.

 

 “Do you want to come home?” Remus asked compassionately.  “We can always find another way to complete your education.”

 

Romulus appreciated the concern. But with Remus’s wages, it was unlikely that he could achieve the same level of learning as he did at Hogwarts.  Here, he was able to work directly with a potions master.  In the outside world, most potions masters wouldn’t give an eleven year old a chance.  Even if Remus purchased all the necessary books, it wasn’t the same as working with experienced witches and wizards.  Romulus was determined to remain at Hogwarts.

 

 “I’d rather stay,” Romulus replied.  Remus seemed to understand.  His eyes were filled with tender kindness.

 

 “If you want to come home, just owl me, and I’ll apparate to Hogsmeade and pick you up,” Remus said gently.  Romulus nodded, feeling a lump rise up in his throat.  After that, Remus spoke a bit about the work he was doing with Sirius.  Most of it involved complicated charms work.  Although Romulus did not find charms as engaging as potions, he was fascinated by the complex products that his adopted father was creating.  It was significantly more stimulating and interesting than his old part-time jobs.  Once Romulus was able to see pass Remus’s worry for him, he noticed that Remus seemed to look happier and healthier than ever.  The air of exhaustion and stress that had once surrounded Remus had subsided.

 

He felt better after the conversation and returned the now-blank mirror to Primrose.  She smiled at him, and there was an inquiring look in her eyes.  However, he did not feel like discussing the conversation or his feelings.  The three of them returned to their readings.  Though the library was tranquil, Primrose struggled with her restlessness.  She had been spending more time than ever with Romulus as of late.  He knew that she would have preferred being with her brother.  At the same time, he didn’t feel like letting her go.  Why should Harry have such an addictive quality to him?  How did he know what to offer to people that made them want to return for more?  In an odd way, Harry and Toby shared that similarity.  Toby might not be as magically powerful, and he had a very different personality.  Still, people were drawn to Toby just as they were drawn to Harry.  Though in Toby’s case, it was limited to Ravenclaws, and in Harry’s case, it seemed to be just about everyone.

 

In the following days Primrose began to drift back to Harry.  It was a gradual process, but she was like a sprig of a plant, stretching for the sun.  And Romulus was like a shadow, blocking her light.  She was guilty about it at first.  She’d make excuses, but even from the beginning, the excuses sounded rickety.  Eventually, she wasn’t even bothering with excuses.  His time was divided between classes, Luna, the library, or hiding away in his room.  Since Luna avoided the Ravenclaw Nest, he had little reason to go up there anymore.

 

Classes continued to be awkward.  Prior to being outed as a werewolf, most of the students ignored him.  It wasn’t a conscious act on their part - Romulus made an effort to be nondescript.  However, once everyone knew of his lycanthropy, the students tried to ignore him with such deliberateness that he felt constantly watched.  It was a bit better in the hallways.  With his dark blond hair and quiet nature, it was easy to go unseen.  Still, once he was noticed, it was difficult to escape the gasps and mutters that trailed behind him.  At least History of Magic was more interesting these days.  The headmaster had somehow convinced (or coerced?) Professor Binns to retire, and the new professor was much less monotone.

 

One of the worst aspects of the entire debacle was the morning post and the howlers.  He had never received a howler prior to coming to Hogwarts.  Now, he was receiving multiple screaming letters every day, from irate parents demanding that he keep his filthy paws away from their sweet innocent children.  He didn’t even know more than a quarter of the names mentioned.  It was bad enough that he started avoiding breakfast altogether.  The Hogwarts kitchens were more peaceful, and if not that, he could always remain in his solitary room.  Although sometimes his room felt more like a kennel than a sanctuary.

 

The howlers were a reminder that the problem was far from over.  He had a feeling that the headmaster was receiving a deluge of letters himself.  In all likelihood, the parents were clamouring for his expulsion.  Romulus felt like the days were grains of sand in an hourglass.  He kept waiting for the day when the headmaster would call him back into his office, telling him to pack his bags and leave.  Thus, when he was told by Professor McGonagall that the headmaster wanted to see him, it was no surprise.  

 

He trudged up to the headmaster’s office, joined by both Primrose and Luna.  Primrose had been keen to join her brother and his friends.  But when she realized that he was wanted by the headmaster, she offered Romulus her support instead.  Luna was just Luna, and she made some comment about how the area around the headmaster's office tended to bring about the nargles.  

 

At the doors of the headmaster’s office, Romulus felt numb.  It came as a surprise, but perhaps he was so emotionally drained that only numbness remained.  He knocked on the heavy doors, and Professor Mole called for him to come in.

 

 “Ah, Mr. Lupin,” the headmaster said dispassionately.   The man had an air of busyness about him, which made Romulus feel like he was disturbing important work.  Professor Mole seemed to have a gift of making people feel small. 

 

“Do come closer.  I don’t fancy having to shout across the room,” Professor Mole said.  His pale eyes were humourless.  Romulus forced himself forward.

 

 “I haven’t seen you at breakfast lately,” the headmaster observed.  Romulus flicked a glance up at the headmaster’s face.  Was he expecting an answer?  The silence between them was oppressive.  Professor Mole narrowed his eyes by a fraction.  Romulus looked back down, keeping his eyes on the large wooden desk.

 

 “It should come as no surprise to you that parents are distressed to have know that their children are living in close proximity to a lycanthrope,” the headmaster said, breaking the silence.  He had a very precise manner of speaking.  Every word seemed to be enunciated with great care.  “Personally, I am of a like mind.  Unlike the previous headmaster -” (here, a note of disdain coloured Professor Mole’s words) “I do not believe in putting young students at risk.”

 

Romulus felt as though everything within him froze.  This was the moment.  The headmaster was going to expel him.  It was no surprise.  He shouldn’t have even come to Hogwarts in the first place.

 

 “However,” Professor Mole continued, interrupting Romulus’s thoughts, “the other professors have a differing opinion.”  The headmaster’s thin lips became even thinner as he frowned.  “They seem to hold you in high regard.  I’ve been told that you are quiet and studious.” 

 

Professor Mole looked displeased to reveal this information.  “Quietness is hardly a virtue.  But it’s a credit to any student to be called studious.  After a long discussion, we have decided to come to a compromise.  If you do not agree, then you may pack your bags and leave.”  The headmaster reached behind his desk, and seemed to be pulling something out of a drawer.  The black item looked like a collar.  The headmaster watched Romulus’s reaction, as he set the item on the middle of the desk.

 

 “This neckband serves as a tracker.  So long as you wear it, the professors will be able to find you at all times.  It also senses aggressive intent.  It will not prevent you from acting and it does not inhibit your free will.”  Professor Mole scowled as he informed Romulus of this.  “But be assured that we will know if you intend any harm.  Well?”

 

Professor Mole’s expression was impatient and expectant.  Romulus gulped, feeling uneasy.  He was so certain he was going to be expelled.  Instead, he was being asked to wear a bloody collar.  Hell.  They were treating him like a common dog.  His pride screamed an indignant refusal.  Romulus stared at the collar, asking himself if Hogwarts was worth the price.  Was potions worth it?  Were Primrose and Luna worth it?

 

 “Okay,” said Romulus quietly.  He wondered if he sounded as defeated as he felt.  He stood, rooted to the spot.

 

 “Go on, boy,” Professor Mole said with irritation when it seemed like Romulus wasn’t planning to move.  “Take it.”

 

Romulus stepped towards the desk.  He felt as though he was drawing near to a bear trap that would tear into his flesh, keeping him bleeding and fettered.  With stiff movements, he picked up the collar.  As soon as he picked it up, it seemed to pulse with magic.  Seconds later, it disappeared from his hands, and he could feel it around his neck.  The weight of it was like prisoner’s irons, rather than just a neckband.

 

Professor Mole didn’t seem pleased by his choice.  There was no malicious satisfaction.  If anything, Romulus got the impression that the headmaster would have preferred it if Romulus had gone home.  For some reason, the headmaster’s dissatisfaction made him feel better.

 

 “I don’t know where you have been going during your transformations, but from now on, you’re not permitted to leave Hogwarts.  There is a room down in the dungeons where you will stay during your transformation.  Professor Snape will give you more details.  Be sure to speak to him about it as soon as possible.  We wouldn’t want you to have any mishaps, now will we?”  The pale cold eyes were almost hateful, and Romulus felt a chill creep along the length of his spine.

 

 “You’re dismissed,” the Headmaster said finally.  Not even bothering with a respectful nod, Romulus turned around and left.  He was amazed that his limbs were able to hold him aloft.  At the bottom of the stairs, Primrose and Luna were waiting for him.  When they saw him, they fussed over him, asking what the headmaster had wanted.  Romulus had no desire to speak about it.  He was surprised that neither of them asked about the collar.  They did not even glance at it.  After a moment of reflection, he realized it was probably charmed to be unseen.  Knowing that his collar wouldn’t be gawked at was a relief.  He hated the way that it had made him feel owned and marked.  And alone.  So achingly alone.

 

Later that day, Romulus went down to the dungeons.  He had to check on his current potions project, and he planned to speak to Professor Snape at the same time.  Luna had offered to come with him (while Primrose had already gone off to find her brother).  However, he declined.  The dungeons had a bit of a maze like quality, and he found it easy to avoid people down there.  His sense of smell always kept him safe.

 

Entering the potions lab he checked the status of his potion.  It was a potion for Dreamless Sleep.  If Professor Snape was satisfied with the quality, then it would be sent to the hospital wing for use.  The potion was an amber colour, but the final potion was supposed to be amethyst purple.  He still had to add dried skullcap flowers, and dragonfly wings and mole eyes.  The potion had been left at a moderate simmer since yesterday.  After adding the final ingredients and stirring the appropriate amount of time, the colour changed to a deep blue.  When he lowered the heat, the potion seemed to swirl, before becoming a brilliant purple.  With a smile, he poured the potion into a phial, and placed it on the desk near the back of the room.  Professor Snape always came by to pick it up at the end of the day.

 

Since the potions master wasn’t in the lab, Romulus made his way towards Professor Snape’s office.  He knocked on the door, and the Professor called him in.  Romulus has long ago grown accustomed to the jars of floating bits and pieces.  He paid no heed to the specimens, his eyes focused only on the Professor and his parchment covered desk.

 

 “Mr. Lupin,” the Professor intoned in his silky voice.  “I was told to expect you.”  His eyes drifted towards the collar on Romulus’s neck.  Romulus touched it self-consciously.  He was the first person to have noticed the black ring that circled his neck.  No muscles in Professor Snape’s face shifted, but Romulus almost thought he saw sympathy in the Professor’s eyes.  However, he could have been imagining it.  Their relationship had always been professional and distant, not one of camaraderie.  

 

 “Sit.”  The Professor gestured at the chair across from his desk  “How is the potion for Dreamless Sleep coming along?” Professor Snape asked politely.  This at least, was familiar territory.

 

 “I just finished and stoppered it,” Romulus said.  “The colour came out a medium bright amethyst.  It smelled like lavender, ladybugs and birch sap.”

 

Professor Snape nodded.  This usually meant approval.  “I’ve almost finished marking your essay about it.  It is satisfactory so far.  You could have added more detail about the other uses of dragonfly wings.”

 

‘Satisfactory’ was high praise from Professor Snape.  However, Romulus was aware that he could have added more detail to the paper.  He had been distracted by his problems with Primrose, and then being outed as a werewolf.  Still, it was no excuse.  Unlike the students, Romulus’s papers did not have a length limitation.  

 

 “I’ll do better next time, sir,” Romulus said, holding back his annoyance with himself.  It was tempting to make excuses - to mention his problems.  But Professor Snape was not his confidante.  Making excuses would only lose the Professor’s respect.

 

Professor Snape hummed, a low sound that vibrated in his neck.  Romulus peered up at him, and the Professor was scanning his face with his infinitely deep black eyes.  His lips were pursed into a thin line.  Romulus blinked, startled.  The last time Professor Snape had assessed him to this degree was when he was trying to decide whether or not Romulus was worthy of being given extra projects.  Romulus tried not fidget like a guilty child who had been caught stealing liquorice wands.

 

 “How is - everything?” the Professor ground out.  He sounded like he was forcing out unfamiliar or uncomfortable words.  His voice lacked it’s usual silken quality.  The Professor’s expression almost looked pained.  Was Professor Snape inquiring about his life?

 

 “I -” Romulus wondered if he should just lie, and say everything was okay.  It looked like the Professor wasn’t prepared to handle any sort of emotional onslaught.  At the same time, he needed someone to talk to.  Primrose was only ever half-there, and Luna - well, he couldn’t make heads or tails of Luna.  Either way, as much as he liked both Primrose and Luna, they were both  _ girls _ .  It wasn’t the same.  And Remus was too far away, and would worry too much.

 

“I hate this,” Romulus replied, his voice cracking slightly.  It came out more pitiful than he meant for it to.  “I feel like a bloody dog.  The headmaster seems to hate me.” His voice started to gain strength as he continued.  “Primrose never wants to be with me because of Harry bloody Potter.  I’m going to spend my next transformation locked in a room in the castle.  And when everyone realizes I’m not the rabid beast they think I am, they’re going to rip me to shreds, just because they can.”

 

After his torrent of words, Romulus was shocked.  Had he really said all that?  He looked up with a panicked glance at Professor Snape.  It was as though he was expecting censure for his lack of emotional control.  He didn’t know where that mindset came from - Remus had always been nothing but gentle kindness.  And yet, Romulus still turned out to be an extremely guarded wizard.  Perhaps his wariness was from observing the way that people treated Remus.   After all, Remus was the very definition of benign and considerate.  The magical world was not a welcoming place for werewolves.

 

Professor Snape cleared his throat, looking uncomfortable.  Romulus had never seen the Professor looking so ill at ease.  The man had always acted like he had an iron grip on every emotion.  Romulus wondered if he should apologize.  Perhaps when the Professor was asking how everything was, he meant something else.  ‘Everything’ was pretty ambiguous.  But the Professor seemed to pull himself quickly together, as he considered Romulus’s words.

 

 “You - dislike Harry Potter?” Professor Snape asked, hesitantly.  Romulus was bewildered by the question.  He almost felt like it was a sort of test.  Did Professor Snape know something about Harry?  Or was he on Harry’s side?  Was he asking what Romulus knew about Harry?

 

 “Erm -” Romulus started uneasily.  “I - uh - don’t actually know Harry that well.  He’s not my friend.”

 

 “Do you want to be his friend?” the Professor Snape asked.  His voice had returned to a cool neutrality.  Romulus could read nothing from his face.  Romulus pursed his lips.  In the end, he decided on honesty.

 

 “No.  Not -” Romulus cut himself off abruptly.

 

The Professor’s eyes narrowed.  “Not what?”  The silkiness sounded almost dangerous.

 

Romulus gulped as his eyes darted towards the Professor and then away.  He had started this.  He might as well go all the way.  “Not the way he is now.”  His voice was little more than a whisper.

 

 “And what is he now?”  Professor Snape’s voice was like a spider drawing in a thread of its web.  And it was Romulus’s words he was pulling at.

 

 “I don’t know,” Romulus said honestly.  His shoulders slumped.  “Someone I wouldn’t want as an enemy, as much as I don’t want him as a friend.  His magic is - his magic feels dangerous.  Or it did - he’s better at hiding it now.”

 

 “You know something,” the Professor stated.  “Tell me.”

 

 “Why are you so interested?” Romulus asked.  The audacity of his question surprised him.  But at the moment, he felt a bit cornered.  How did this conversation go from his personal concerns to Harry Potter?  Why did everything have to be about Harry?  Furthermore, most people didn’t push him like this.  Hadn’t he already spilled all his worries?  The dam of his emotions has already burst, and he felt like he had nothing more he wanted to say.

 

The Professor seemed to be debating whether or not to reveal his own thoughts.  “You will tell no one what I am telling you today.”  Romulus nodded in agreement to the Professor’s command.  “I have suspicions that Harry has given way to Dark Magic.  But I have been unable to confirm anything thus far.  Mr. Potter’s behaviour is far from normal for a twelve year old boy.  The vast majority of twelve year olds are, for lack of a better word, nitwits.  The ones that aren’t are just better at masking their youthful foolishness.  Mr. Potter -” the Professor swallowed a bitter lump in his throat, “doesn’t strike me as a fool.”

 

 “Do all the Professors think the same way?” Romulus asked, wide-eyed.

 

Professor Snape scowled.  “The rest of the staff seem blind when it comes to  _ him _ .”  He spat out the word ‘him,’ and Romulus could hear the depth of animosity in his voice.  ‘He hates Harry Potter,’ Romulus thought.  He had sometimes observed Professor Snape looking at Harry with narrowed eyes in the Great Hall.  Now he knew why.

 

  “Not just the staff,” Romulus muttered.  Professor Snape raised a black eyebrow.

 

  “Indeed,” the Professor drawled.  There was a moment of silence.

 

  “Erm - am I fool or a nitwit?” Romulus couldn’t help but ask.  Professor Snape smirked.

 

 “You’re not a nitwit,” Professor Snape replied, with a trace of amusement.  “And not that much of a fool.  But it was foolish to ask the question.”  Romulus’s ears burned with embarrassment.

 

 “So, what do you know of Mr. Potter?” the Professor asked, his tone once again serious.  But the dangerous edge was now gone.

 

 “Primrose told me that he’s cursed.  But she mentioned that Professor Dumbledore already knew this so - maybe you already know?”  Romulus looked at Professor Snape, but his expression held no answers.  He raised an eyebrow, as if to say, Go on.  “She also thought that he might be possessed.  She created a runic circle to test her idea.  But the results were - erm - unexpected.”

 

Professor Snape’s already pallid skin somehow looked even paler.  “Unexpected, how?”  His voice sounded almost strained.

 

 “Well, it was supposed to turn purple if he was possessed.  But it didn’t.  It was reddish-black.  We don’t know what it means.”

 

 “We?” the Professor asked.

 

 “Luna and I.  I don’t know anything about runes.  But she does.”

 

 “You’re certain that the runes were drawn correctly?” 

 

 “I don’t know.  Luna is certain though,” Romulus explained.  Professor Snape pursed his lips, and his expression was thoughtful.

 

 “Do you know what it means, sir?” Romulus asked hopefully.

 

A deep line appeared between the Professor’s brows.  “Unfortunately, ancient runes isn’t something I have studied extensively.  Is there anything else you know?”  Romulus shook his head.

 

The Professor hummed deep in his throat.  “Tell me if you discover anything new.”  Romulus agreed.  The silence descended once again, but it wasn’t a weighty one.  Although Romulus spoke more of Harry than himself, he felt a bit lighter.  He wouldn’t go so far as to say Professor Snape was an ally, but he was a potential ally.  And that was better than what he had before.

 

Professor Snape cleared his throat.  “I still have to show you your - transformation room.”  He sounded uncomfortable again.  Romulus felt a twist in his gut.  The Professor stood up, and his eyes told Romulus to follow.  They walked through the dungeons, and though they did not descend any steps, Romulus still felt like they were heading downwards.  The air felt colder and clammier.  The walls seemed to close in on him.  Even Professor Snape’s robes did not billow as much.  Romulus had never felt so claustrophobic in his life, and his instincts screamed for him to run.  Finally, they arrived at a corridor which appeared to be lined with a row of wooden doors.  The wooden doors had a rectangular window, set with thick iron bars.  Oh, bloody fucking hell.  Not this.  Anything but this.

 

Professor Snape watched Romulus’s expression, his dark eye taking in every minute detail.  Romulus’s blue eyes eyes met black ones.  Romulus looked vulnerable and very, very young.  His wide-eyes seemed to plead with the Professor.  He was shaking his head, though his movements were slight, and subconscious.  Though the arrangements had not been decided by Professor Snape, he felt guilt crushing his chest.

 

 “I - I’m -” Professor Snape seemed to almost be about to apologize.  “I did not wish this for you.”  The Professor clenched his jaw, and walked forward.  He pushed a hand towards the closest door, and it creaked open.  It was an actual prison cell.  A prison cell in the Hogwarts dungeon.  Romulus felt like he shouldn’t have been surprised that the dungeons were actually dungeons.  Yet he was.  Romulus peered into the small, squarish room.  It smelled like sweat, fear and bodily fluids.  The smell was faint, and old - it was evident that the house elves had come in here and cleaned it out.  But to Romulus’s sensitive nose, the smell was was unmistakable.  Along one of the walls was a set of rusted manacles.  Romulus couldn’t bring himself to enter the room.

 

 “You don’t have to do this,” Professor Snape said, and his voice was oddly gentle.  Romulus turned his head to look up at the Professor.  He was reminding Romulus of his other option - the choice of packing up and going home.  Romulus swallowed, and his gut ached.  He wanted Remus to hold him - to tell him that everything was going to be alright.  But he didn’t want Professor Mole to win.  He didn’t want to leave Primrose and Luna to Harry.  He didn’t want to give up potions.

 

 “I - I do.  I have to do this,” Romulus said. He was able to keep the tremble out of his voice.  But his blue eyes still looked terribly vulnerable.  

 

Professor Snape nodded, his expression grave.  There was a respect in his eyes, which gave Romulus strength.  They left the bowels of the dungeon in silence.  When Romulus finally made his way back to his room, he collapsed on his bed in a boneless heap.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is all I've written. I'm not too happy with the story so it's on hiatus, I suppose. If I ever pick it up again, it's likely that I'd opt to re-write it, rather than continue

The following day Romulus once again skipped breakfast in the Great Hall, and decided to go down to the kitchens instead.  He did not have much of an appetite, but he still forced himself to eat.  His wolf-instincts told him that food was strength, and he needed all the strength he could get.  His first class of the day was Charms.  The classroom was on the third floor, and he met Luna and Primrose on the stairs there.

 

 “You look terrible,” Luna said lightly from his right side.  “Is it maestusors?”  Upon seeing Romulus’s bewildered expression, she explained.  “They’re parasitic creatures that tend to dwell where dementors have been, and try and suck up leftover happiness.”

 

 “Erm - I didn’t see any,” Romulus replied, shooting a glance at Primrose who was on his left.

 

Primrose was scanning his face.  “She’s right.  You do look terrible.  What happened yesterday?  Luna said you were going down to the dungeons and then we didn’t see you for the rest of the day.”

 

Romulus pursed his lips.  It was tempting to point out that Primrose wouldn’t have seen him either way, since she spent all her time with Harry.  Instead, he just shrugged.  Primrose and Luna’s eyes met and then they looked back at Romulus.

 

 “You were in the  _ Prophet _ again today,” Primrose informed him in a subdued voice.  “Not the first page though - don’t worry.”  Romulus looked at her, waiting for her explanation.  It made him feel a bit tainted, to know that others were writing about him without his permission.

 

 “The article mentioned - uh - that you have to wear a neckband that tracks all your movements.  And it doesn’t allow you act aggressively, or something like that.  And then a bunch of stupid stuff about safety at Hogwarts,” Primrose continued.  Romulus frowned.  It wasn’t strictly true - he was able to act aggressively.  But the article made him sound like a declawed cat.  Which meant that everyone would see him as harmless.

 

 “I can kind of see it -” Luna said.  “It’s short of a shimmer around his neck.  A disillusionment, maybe?”  Romulus’s frown deepened.  He didn’t want people examining his neck.  Luna seemed to sense his unhappiness.

 

 “Don’t worry, it’s barely visible.  And people’s heads are so full of wrackspurts that they probably won’t see anything at all,” Luna reassured him airily.  Romulus sighed.  This was all the headmaster’s fault.  In that moment, Romulus realized that he had never hated anyone quite as much as he hated Professor Mole.

 

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

 

It was the end of March.  Mathilda sat with Luthais on one side, and Primrose on the other in thier History of Magic class.  Harper Harris was sitting on Luthais’s other side.  Now that they had a new history professor, there was significantly less whispered conversations.  The Professor’s name was Haralda Humberston.  She was a tall and stately woman, with steel grey hair, and rectangular glasses.  Her voice was low, but melodic.  That said, Professor Humberston didn’t have the talent for bringing history to life.  She was a step up from Professor Binns, but anyone would have been a step up from Professor Binns.  She might have a droning monotone voice, but Professor Humberston tended to focus too much on little details.  The history became lost in the minutia. 

 

Mathilda peeked a glance at Primrose.  Her friend saw her looking and smiled before looking back to the front of the class.  Mathilda bit the bottom of her lip.  She wanted to ask Primrose about her brother Harry.  She had been wanting to for a while, but she was never sure of how to broach the topic.  Though Primrose had tried to dissuade them from believing that Harry Potter was the Heir of Slytherin, there was still something about him.  And with the new Professor, it was harder than ever to talk.

 

The Slytherins couldn’t fail to notice the way that the other students were drawn to Harry Potter.  Many of them tried to feign disdain or indifference.  But like Mathilda, they wanted to know more about him.  He was a parselmouth.  He had survived the killing curse.  He was a hero.  But despite all that, he didn’t feel like a paragon of Light.  He might act that way on the surface.  Yet something about Harry Potter came across as almost Slytherin-like.  Perhaps Draco’s words had influenced the other Slytherins.  Draco might only be a second year, but his family was rich, influential and powerful.

 

Draco held the unshakable belief that Harry Potter was a Snake in Lion’s clothing.  He was so confident about it that it was hard not to believe him.  But why was he so sure?  No one ever saw the two of them together.  As far as Mathilda was aware, the two had never traded anything more than insults in class.  Or perhaps it was more accurate to say that Draco threw insults, and Harry never responded, if rumours were to be believed.  Regardless of all that, people also had a tendency to convince themselves of things they wanted to be true.  Most Slytherins wanted to believe the Heir of Slytherin was back.  Most Slytherins were sick of being one House against three.  Most Slytherins noticed that when Professor Dumbledore was suspended, Harry Potter didn’t speak a word in the Headmaster’s defence.

 

It was remarkable to think of how much things had changed.  Dumbledore, the leader of the Light was gone.  Professor Binns was gone.  Professor Lockhart was gone (which was a shame - he had such a charming smile).  Harry Potter seemed like the most popular boy in school.  True, as a celebrity, people were inclined to like him.  However, most of the older students had said that he had been quiet and unassuming last year.  Could a person really come of their shell so much in one year?  If it could happen to Harry, maybe it could happen to her.  Mathilda fell into a daydream about being the most charming girl in school.  She ended up tuning out over ten minutes of Professor Humberston’s lecture.  The Professor was describing how the nuances of Gobbledegook had affected the outcome of of peace negotiations during the Goblin rebellions.

 

Finally, classes were done.  The students stuffed their textbooks, quills and parchment in their schoolbags.  They were stiff and aching when they stood up.  The hard wooden seats were not meant for comfort. 

 

 “What are your plans for later, Primrose?” Mathilda asked the Ravenclaw girl. 

 

 “Hm?  Well, I have to finish a paper for Defence.  I can’t make heads or tails of what Professor Greystone says, most of the time,” Primrose told her, scrunching up her face.

 

 “Well, when a person signs up to be an auror, I don’t think they do so with the intent of teaching,” Luthais said wryly.

 

 “I suppose not,” Primrose replied with a crooked smile.  “Maybe I can ask Harry about it.  It’s his strongest subject.”

 

 “You’ve been spending a lot of time with Harry lately,” Mathilda said thoughtfully. 

 

 “Heroic Harry, the parselmouth,” Luthais murmured, ironically.

 

 “I explained the parselmouth thing,” Primrose said with a touch of impatience.  “And you three know that I’m also a parselmouth.  It’s really not a big deal.  You know, are always welcome to join us.  Harry’s really nice.”

 

 “At the Gryffindor Table?  Are you kidding?” Harper asked.  “Even if we wanted to, the other Slytherins would probably skin us alive if we sat over there.”

 

 “We don’t alway sit at Gryffindor Table.  Sometimes we sit at Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw,” Primrose said defensively.

 

 “Hm.  Well, I think we should consider it,” Mathilda replied, looking pointedly at Luthais and Harper.  “People are always talking about him.  It’d be interesting to know the real Harry Potter.”

 

Luthais raised an elegant eyebrow at Mathilda.  “Lions are safer from a distance, don’t you think?”

 

Mathilda smirked.  “So are snakes.”

 

 “Touché,” Luthais replied.  He turned to look at Primrose.  “We’ll consider it.  Another day perhaps.”  

 

Primrose grinned.  “I hope so.  Well, I’ll see you three later!”  She waved and joined Luna and the werewolf-boy.

 

Like the rest of the Slytherins, Mathilda had been shocked to discover that there was a werewolf in the school.  It was even more of a shock when they found it it was Primrose’s friend.  What was his name again?  Romulus, or something.  The boy was so quiet.  Now that she thought about it, that quietness could be construed as creepiness.  He was just so silent.  It was weird.  When Professor Mole had first made the announcement, the Slytherin house had been up in arms.  It seemed horrifying that a halfbreed creature could be at the school.  It put everyone at risk.  The Slytherins were convinced that Professor Snape would be on their side.  To their shock and surprise, he had admonished them for their preconceptions.

 

 “If the werewolf were a risk to the other students, then the danger would have already made itself known.  The fact that no one was aware just goes to show that the situation is well contained,” their Head of House had said, with his disdainful drawl.  No one had expected those words from Professor Snape.  There was more than one student who had felt bitter about it.  When Romulus’s identity was revealed, it made much more sense.  Everyone knew that Professor Snape had taken a Ravenclaw first year under his wing.  The fact that Professor Snape’s little protege was Romulus suggested that the Head of House was rather biased.

 

This issue was contentious enough that Professor Snape could have very well had a mutiny on his hands.  However, their Head of House was able to assert his dominance with his sharp tongue and commanding presence.  No one dared to argue with that rapier sharp wit.  With a few words, Professor Snape could easily leave the students in tears.

 

Besides that, the fact that Primrose hadn’t abandoned her friendship with Romulus suggested that maybe, the boy wasn’t that bad.  Primrose was a clever girl.  She couldn’t make that much of a lapse of judgement, could she?  All the same, Mathilda had no desire to get to know the werewolf-boy.  And Romulus acted just as satisfied to ignore the rest of the world.  The whole matter did make interesting gossip though.  For the past couple of weeks, it was all anyone wanted to talk about.

 

Mathilda and her friends made their way down to the Slytherin common room.  Like Primrose, they too had to finish the Defence paper.  Professor Greystone was such a bad teacher that half the students weren’t even sure what their essays were supposed to be about.  It was a topic of heavy debate, which left the first years afraid to even start, lest they waste their time.  Mathilda sighed, and wished they could have Professor Lockhart back.  She liked his class skits, and his sparkling eyes, and shiny hair.

 

The Defence essay turned out to be a headache to write.  By the time she was done, she had silently cursed Professor Greystone with every hex and jinx she could think of.  Evening had descended, and the lake water outside the windows was a murky blackish green.  Done with their homework, Luthais and Harper had gotten into a conversation about Quidditch.  Mathilda didn’t mind watching Quidditch games, but she drew the line at talking about it.  She was giving her essay a final read over.  Although it frustrated her, she felt she had done enough.  Now, she just needed to find a way to relax.  Mathilda wasn’t close to Astrid and her friends at all.  Though Astrid had been in a better mood as of late, because she was worming her way back into Draco’s good graces.  Perhaps she could listen in on Pansy Parkinson’s conversation.  Pansy was a gossip queen, and always knew the most interesting stories.  As for Draco, he was nowhere in sight.

 

Mathilda neatly folded up her essay, and put it in her bookbag.  However, she noticed the blue spine of a library book that she forgot to return.

 

 “Oh Merlin,” she huffed in annoyance.  Luthais and Harper looked at her with inquiring expressions.

 

 “I forgot to return this library book,” she explained.  “It’s still half an hour before it closes.  I better go.”

 

 “Would you like me to come with you?” Luthais asked politely.  She always appreciated his good breeding and excellent manners.

 

 “Thank you but no.  I’ll be alright,” Mathilda replied, smiling.  Luthais nodded.  Slinging her bag over her shoulder, Mathilda left the common room.  She made it to the library with plenty of time to spare.  Feeling like she had spent too much of the day sitting, Mathilda decided to take a detour back to the Slytherin common room.  Walking was good for the constitution after all.  Besides, if she took a long walk, then perhaps by the time she returned to the common room, Luthais and Harper would be done talking about Quidditch. 

 

She was climbing the Great Staircase, when a shift in the stairs led her to a corridor that she had never walked down before.  Rather than portraits on the walls, there seemed to be a long line of mirrors.  They were of all shapes and sizes.  Some had simple frames, and others had ornate, extravagant frames.  Most showed her normal reflection.  One showed her with pink hair (the colour clashed terribly with her skin tone).  Another showed what she would look like as a boy.  That was a bit strange.  And one made her look really old.  She hoped that she wouldn’t actually be that wrinkly when she was old.  She could see no one else in this corridor, but up ahead, she heard a soft susurrus.  Was it the ghosts?  Perhaps a pair of lovers?

 

Mathilda knew it was rude to eavesdrop, but something about the situation made her daring.  Luthais and Harper weren’t here to censure her for unladylike behaviour.  It was not yet curfew, so she wouldn’t get in trouble for being out at this time of night.  It wasn’t the full moon, so she didn’t have to fear a werewolf attack.  And more than that, she was curious.  If there was any danger, she would just run.  As a Slytherin, she had a healthy sense of self-preservation.  Fortunately for Mathilda, this particular corridor was lined with a rich, opulent rug, which muffled her footsteps.

 

She crept forward, and peeked around the bend up ahead.  The corridor was lit by torches, but the flames did not flicker at all.  Mathilda preferred it this way - flickering torches created strange shadows.  The things that hid in shadows could be frightening.  She was both astonished, and yet unsurprised by what she saw.  It was the white-blond Draco speaking to the black-haired Harry Potter.  Draco’s expression was very intent.  Harry’s head was tilted, as he listened to whatever Draco was saying.  Mathilda wished she could hear their conversation.  There was no way she could get any closer.

 

Mathilda almost jumped out of her skin when a voice called out: “There’s no sense hiding.  I know you’re there.”  It wasn’t Draco’s voice, so it must be Harry.  Mathilda was fixed to the spot.  Some part of her screamed at her to run.  But the voice that called out hadn’t sounded threatening. Not that that meant anything.  Her heart was beating frantically, like a little bird had trapped itself in her ribcage.  ‘I should run,’ she thought.  ‘I really should run.’

 

 “Don’t worry.  We won’t hurt you,” Harry called out.  He sounded amused.  Woodenly, Mathilda stepped out forward.  She felt the weight of Draco’s and Harry’s eyes on her.  Draco was scowling.  Harry’s eyelids were at half mast, and he wore a lazy smile.  He had leaned his weight against the wall, and his arms were crossed in a relaxed manner.

 

 “What are you doing here?” Draco hissed.  

 

 “I - I -” Mathilda stammered.  She had never felt so inelegant in her life.

 

 “Don’t frighten her, Draco,” Harry drawled, rolling his eyes, before looking back at Mathilda.  “What’s your name?”

 

 “Mathilda.  Mathilda Travers.”

 

Harry hummed, and the edge of his lips tilted upwards.  “An old pureblood family.  Lineage almost as old as the time of Merlin.”  Harry’s words caused a swell of pride in Mathilda’s chest, and she felt a bit less afraid.

 

 “Yes,” she replied.  She tilted her head with practiced grace at Harry.  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Potter.”

 

Harry laughed, showing straight white teeth.  It made him look very boyish.  “Just Harry is fine, Mathilda.  Were you going for a walk?”  Mathilda nodded.

 

 “See, Draco?” Harry looked over at Draco, with his lazy smile.  “No harm done.  She won’t tell.”  Harry his head back to Mathilda.  “Will you?”

 

 “Tell what?”  Mathilda asked, confused.

 

 “You won’t mention anything you saw here,” Draco hissed with annoyance.  “None of it.  I wasn’t here.  Harry wasn’t here.  Mention nothing.  Especially if you want to survive Slytherin.”  It was a clear threat.  Mathilda nodded, feeling her nervousness returning. 

 

 “Oh Draco,” Harry sighed.  He smiled warmly at Mathilda.  “Don’t mind him.  You won’t tell will you?  We can trust you, can’t we?”  His viridescent eyes were beautiful, like shining emeralds.  Mathilda never realized how beautiful his eyes were before.  She felt breathless.

 

 “Of course I would never tell!  I swear it!” she exclaimed.  Harry’s smile grew even warmer, and Mathilda’s heart fluttered.  He had an even nicer smile than Professor Lockhart.

 

 “I’m glad to hear it, Mathilda,” Harry said.  His voice sounded like rich nectar as he spoke her name.  He turned his head back to Draco.  “See?  We can trust her.”  The praise made Mathilda flush with pleasure.  She longed to be worthy of Harry’s trust.

 

Draco huffed with irritation and crossed his arms.  “Whatever.  Just go.”

 

 “See you later, Mathilda,” Harry said warmly.  Mathilda’s cheeks felt even hotter.

 

 “Nice to meet you Harry.  Bye!”  Mathilda replied, feeling a bit bashful.  As Mathilda rushed off, she felt a golden, effervescent joy in her heart.  Harry was so nice!  She couldn’t believe it.  Of course, she had seen him being nice to others, but it was different when he was nice to  _ her _ .  It was interesting that he had been talking to Draco.  Could there be truth to the rumours that he was the Heir of Slytherin?  In that moment, she wished that it was true.  If Harry was the Heir of Slytherin, then the Snakes could have him all to themselves.  And wouldn’t that be nice?

 

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

 

The full moon fell on the sixth of April.  In the days before the full moon, Romulus was filled with a profound sense of dread.  It didn’t help that at lunch and supper in the Great Hall, Professor Mole watched him with a cold and clinical sort of interest.  The headmaster wanted him to fail.  He wanted Romulus to falter, and admit defeat.  Professor Mole rarely ever smiled.  But sometime Romulus felt like the headmaster was smiling at him, not with gladness, but with pure malice.  Perhaps it was all just a fanciful notion in his head.  Still, he couldn’t escape the feeling.

 

Ever since the day the collar had been placed around his neck, Romulus had stopped going to the Come and Go Room.  He knew that the headmaster wouldn’t approve of his activities there.  Perhaps he wouldn’t have felt so bad if Primrose had been willing to commiserate with him.  However, she had shrugged it off with a cheerful smile, and said: “Well, we’ve learned plenty already.  It’s not like we’re behind in Defence.”  And that was that.

 

With so many eyes on him, he was forced to take the wolfsbane potion, rather than sending it to Remus like he usually did.  Of course, due to the newspaper articles, Remus knew what was going on.  However, Romulus downplayed the situation so that Remus would not worry excessively.  Remus didn’t know that he was being forced to spend his full moons in a prison cell.  Neither did Romulus mention his suspicions that the headmaster seemed to be making it his personal mission to make Romulus’s life as uncomfortable as possible.  Not only did Romulus keep Remus in the dark about the cell in the dungeons, but he did not tell Primrose or Luna either.  He knew that both of them would be sympathetic.  But at the same time, the situation was too humiliating to bring to light.  He just wanted to get the whole thing over with.

 

Romulus had never much cared for the effects of wolfsbane potion.  But knowing he was to be locked in a cell, he knew his human mind would handle it better than his wolf mind.  His wolf mind would tear himself apart in such circumstances.  He met up with Professor Snape in the early evening at his office.  At least Romulus was able to trust Professor Snape, to some degree.  If it had been the headmaster walking him to his prison cell, it would have pushed him over the edge.

 

Professor Snape looked almost grim as Romulus felt.  Of course, one could say that grim was Professor Snape’s usual look.  But somehow, he managed to look even grimmer than usual.  The Professor had given Romulus a look over when he first knocked on the door.  Snape had given a minute nod, as though to say ‘You look ready for this.’  Romulus supposed he was as ready as he would ever be.  He wasn’t frightened by the situation - true, it was claustrophobic and humiliating.  But while he was locked in the cell, the greatest danger posed was the danger to himself. 

 

He and Professor Snape were silent as they descended down to the cells.  Along the way, the ghost of the Bloody Baron floated by, covered in blood and bearing his heavy chains.  The ghost gave Professor Snape a look of mild surprise.  This area of the dungeon was rarely traversed.  There were several spells along these corridors to deter wayward students, so that they would not venture forward.  However, the Baron lost interested, and floated away through the wall.

 

When the reached the dank cells, Romulus once again felt that sick twist in his gut.  But he forced himself forward into the small dark room.

 

 “You’ll be alright,” Professor Snape said, sounding oddly emotionless.  Romulus couldn’t tell if he was trying to be reassuring, or just making a statement.  Romulus nodded, his blue eyes filled with resolve.  As Professor Snape closed the door and locked it, the sound seemed to echo through the dungeons.  Romulus listened to the Professor’s footsteps as he walked away.  Eventually, all the he could hear was the sound of his shallow breaths, and the beating of his heart in his ears.

 

That night, his transformation felt more painful than usual.  He knew it was in his head.  In normal circumstances, the pain of the transformation was the price he paid for being able to run free, and forget his worries.  This month (and the ones to come), there was no freedom.  There was no escape.  There was only pain - the physical pain of his muscles, skin and bones shift, as well as the psychological and emotional pain of the situation itself.  With the wolfsbane potion in him, he couldn’t escape his human mind.  He knew that if his wolf mind took over, he’d attack and rend his own flesh.  Still - the idea was almost tempting.  They way he felt now, he’d been awake all night, letting doubts and possibly regrets swirl around his head.

 

By the time morning arrived, Romulus was lying on the damp stone floor of the cell, trembling.  His head pulsed with a piercing headache that felt like an icepick through his brain.  His throat felt like it had been rubbed raw with sand.  He barely registered the sound of the key unlocking the door, and when Professor Snape opened the cell, Romulus didn’t even look up at him.  

 

He knew Professor Snape was saying something to him - calling his name perhaps.  But the words didn’t seem to register.  All he wanted was for the headache to go away, and for his body to stop shaking.  He coiled up, pulling his legs into his body.  The buzzing sound that the Professor was making stopped, and the next thing he knew, he felt arms reaching under him, and picking him up.  He groaned and squeezes his eyes shut.  Now, on top of the headache was an intense and sickening nausea.

 

Romulus kept his eyes shut.  He had a feeling that if he opened them, he’d sick up all over Professor Snape’s robes.  If he had had full control of his faculties, he would have been mortified at his situation.  Being carried by the Professor like some baby was not the sort of thing that an eleven year old boy would take pride in.  After what seemed like a lifetime, the motion stopped.  He fluttered his eyes open for a moment.  But the brightness of the light stabbed at his eyes, and he squeezed them shut once again. 

 

He heard a female voice saying something, and then his mouth was being opened, while something bitter was poured down his throat.  He recognized the potion by taste alone, and so he wasn’t surprised to feel his pain fade away.  The feeling was so wonderful, that he wanted to fling his arms around the nearest person, and kiss their robes.  Upon opening his eyes, he saw that that person was Madam Pomfrey.  He was sitting on one of the beds in the infirmary.  He looked around, but Professor Snape was nowhere in sight.  It was almost tempting to believe that the Professor hadn’t actually been there.  If that were so, then at least he could keep his dignity.

 

 “How are you feeling, Mr. Lupin?” Madam Pomfrey asked, her eyes filled with concern.

 

 “Better,” he admitted.  He tried to sit up, but his limbs felt as wobbly as a baby fawn’s.  With a sigh, he flopped back down.

 

 “You won’t be going anywhere today, Mr. Lupin,” the matron said briskly.  “I’ll have the house elves bring you some food.  You’ll need to get your strength back up.”  Romulus nodded in assent.  Now that the nausea was gone, he felt ravenous.  He was given a big breakfast, with a mound of eggs, sausages, bacon and toast.  But even after clearing everything on the plate, he still felt hungry.  However, his exhaustion overpowered his hunger, and he was soon asleep.

 

He woke in the early evening, his stomach gnawing with aggressive hunger.  By his bed stood Primrose, setting down a stack of parchment.  She looked startled, and he wondered how long she had been there.

 

 “Oh!  You’re awake!” she exclaimed.  She didn’t exactly look happy about that - her eyes kept slipping towards the door.  Still, she made an effort to paste a smile on her face.  “I brought you my notes from the classes you missed.  Professor McGonagall also assigned twelve inches on any subject we’ve covered in this year, but it has to be written entirely in the transfiguration alphabet.”  She gestured towards the parchment.  Romulus had mixed feelings about seeing Primrose.  He was glad that she had made an effort to come.  But her company had been very sporadic in the past week.  It had hurt, that she preferred Harry’s presence so much more, magic or no magic.  Yes, he was her brother, but that meant that she’d see him every holiday and she’d be close to him for the rest of her life.  Sometimes, it felt like she didn’t value their friendship at all.  Not wanting to experience the emotional pain he had tried shoving his feelings aside.  He argued with himself that it didn’t matter.  Luna was still a good friend (and in truth, she was).  But suppressing his feelings didn’t meant that they went away.  It just meant that they simmered, unseen, beneath the surface.

 

 “Thank you,” he said with tired politeness.  His stomach clenched angrily, wanting food.  It did little to help with his mood.  He looked from the notes on the table to his friend’s face.

 

 “How are you feeling?” she asked, her tone cautious.

 

 “I’m - okay.  Tired,” he admitted.  Primrose’s expression softened for a brief moment, but then, her eyes slid towards the doors again.  After the ordeal he had undergone, it was maddening that his friend couldn’t even keep her attention on him.  The combination of exhaustion, hunger and vulnerability caused him to lose his grip on his feelings.  It had been long coming.

 

 “Merlin’s beard, Primrose!  Is Harry that much more important than me?” he snapped, blue eyes flashing with irritation.  Primrose’s eyes widened in surprise.  “No need to act so shocked.  You think I don’t notice the way you keep looking towards the doors, waiting for the right moment to get away?  Nevermind that I was just locked in a dungeon cell all night.  All that matters to you is your bloody precious brother.  What happened to figuring out his curse or his possession?”

 

Primrose gaped, her mouth opening and closing like a fish.  “Excuse me?”  Her voice sounded more weak than indignant.

 

 “You heard me,” he snarled.  The wolf in him had roused, and it was itching for a fight.  It hadn’t liked being muzzled by the effects of the wolfsbane.  “You were the one who brought it up.  The curse.  Or have you forgotten already?”

 

 “I - I -” Primrose stammered.  “You can’t always get rid curses.  And Harry doesn’t seem to be negatively affected.”  Her defences sounded weak, even to her own ears.

 

 “Oh?  So you trust how things appear on the surface?  You’d rather stick your head in the sand, than face difficult truths?”  Romulus sneered, unsympathetic to Primrose’s dumbfoundment.  “Is that what love is?  Pretending that bad things don’t exist?  Letting your brother get eaten up by Darkness?  And of course, tossing me aside in the meantime.”

 

 “I’m not - I -” Primrose’s hands were tightened into fists.  She looked like a cornered puppy, wanting to snap and bite, but having no real defences.  She was shaking her head.  “I wouldn’t - No!  I wouldn’t let Harry get eaten by Darkness.  I wouldn’t throw you away.”

 

 “But you are!” Romulus exclaimed, and his anger made him feel like he was roaring.  Yet, despite his hot, pounding fury, Madam Pomfrey had not come out of her office to disrupt his confrontation.

 

 “You  _ are _ throwing me a way!  Harry’s  _ already _ eaten by the Darkness!  I read that book that you mentioned.  The longer you leave curses or possessions, the worse they get.  Is that something you conveniently decided to forget?” Romulus continued.  His hands dug into the mattress.  What he really wanted to do was to leap about of bed and shake some sense into Primrose.  Shake her until her teeth clattered in her dense little head.

 

Primrose was still shaking her head.  Her eyes were shining with tears - she looked trapped and horrified.  “No - No - not Harry.  No!”

 

 “You have to distance yourself, Primrose!  You’ve lost all perspective!  How can you do anything to help Harry when you won’t even face the problem?”

 

Primrose trembled.  “I - Harry - he -”  Her breathing was ragged.  She squeezed her eyes shut, and tears trailed down her cheeks.  “I can’t!  Please, I can’t.  He’s Harry.  He’s my brother.  I can’t take it when he pushes me away.”  Her knuckles were white as she gripped the side of her robes.  “I just can’t!”  Her words were broken off by sobbing breaths.  Her limbs felt as though they could no longer support her, and she sunk down on her knees, sitting down on her heels.

 

She felt raw and frightened.   “I can’t lose him.  I don’t want to lose him.  Not Harry.”  Her words were little more than whimpers.  

 

 “Primrose,” Romulus said, his voice low and calmer.  “I know you want to help you brother.  But what you’re doing now isn’t helping.  You know that don’t you?”

 

Primrose shook her head.  Romulus bit his lower lip, holding back a huff of annoyance.  He tried again.  “There’s things that can be done.  I’m sure the professors would be willing to help too - you’re not alone.  I’ll help you.  Luna will help you too.”

 

Primrose kept shaking your head.  “You don’t understand,” she said. Her voice was so quiet that he had to lean forward to hear her.  “There’s only blackness now.  There’s only ever blackness.” Tears flowed freely from her hazel-green eyes.  She pursed her lips, and gripped her robes, which were now wrinkled and disarrayed.

 

 “You still have to try,” Romulus said, a hint of urgency slipping into his tone.  “You can’t give up.  Luna’s still doing research on runes.  I’m willing to make up whatever potion you need.  And Professor Snape might help too.”

 

 “Professor Snape?” Primrose raised her head, and looked up at Romulus, her reddish eyes wide.

 

 “Er - we had a conversation.  About Harry,” Romulus admitted.  Primrose’s eyes narrowed.

 

 “You spoke about my brother to Professor Snape.”  Her voice had gone from tremulous to flat.  From Primrose’s expression, Romulus had a feeling that he had somehow misstepped.

 

 “He’s can help,” Romulus told her, hoping to sound reassuring.  Primrose was climbing back up on her feet.

 

 “Professor Snape hates my brother,” Primrose said, her voice still colourless.  “And now that I think about it, I think you might hate my brother too.”  She was backing away from him, with slow steps.

 

 “Primrose - I - It doesn’t matter what I feel for Harry.  I care about you,” he said, wanting to draw her back in.  It scared him to be so open with his feelings.  But it scared him more to feel like he was losing his packmate.  Seeing her edging away made his chest ache.  But despite her swollen eyes, and tear-stained face, there was a resolute expression her her eyes.

 

 “You never gave him a chance.  Harry’s my family.  Don’t ask me to choose between you, because you won’t like the answer,” Primrose said, with a chilled edge in her voice.

 

 “I’m not - I’m not saying you have to give up your brother.  Just take a step back - We can work together to help him.”

 

 “How could I have been so blind?” Primrose said.  She didn’t seem to have heard him at all.  She was looking towards the far wall, and her swollen eyes were now flashing with anger.

 

 “Primrose?” 

 

She turned her head back to look at him.  “I shouldn’t have come here,” she said, emotionlessly.  She turned, and walked towards the exit of the infirmary.  He called her back, but she paid him no heed.  Then then, she was gone, and he felt like he was falling into a deep dark abyss of pain.

 

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

 

Rosie was sitting in the comfortable compartment of the Hogwarts Express.  School had been let out for Easter break, and she and Harry were heading back to London to see Sirius.  In the compartment with them was Hermione, Neville and Ginny.  Ginny was, of course, sitting next to Harry.  She was as possessive of him as ever, but she had relaxed towards Rosie.  Ginny’s jealousy of Harry would have made her unbearable to be around, and Rosie was glad that the girl was no longer quite so fanatical.  Well, in truth, she was still crazy about Harry, but she wasn’t as crazy about keeping people away from Harry.  Sometimes, Ginny would still shoot her looks through slitted eyes, but then the girl would look a way, and Rosie would shrug it off.

 

Hermione and Harry were deep in a conversation about their school work.  Despite all his new friends, Harry was still just as diligent as ever about maintaining his high grades.  As for Rosie, she felt distracted.  Ever since her conversation with Romulus in the infirmary, she had felt conflicted and confused.  She had avoided Romulus which was easy enough to do.  After all, he had his own private rooms, and she never saw him in the Ravenclaw Nest anymore.  In classes, she sat with Luna, or with other students.  And in the Great Hall during meals, Luna was usually wedged between them.  But just because she managed to avoid talking to Romulus, it didn’t mean that his words had been forgotten.  Rosie had been unable to regain her equilibrium since that day.  

 

That night after seeing Romulus in the infirmary, she had gone back to her dorm room.  She didn’t think that she could face Harry and his friends.  She felt to raw and too confused by everything.  She was also simmering with anger towards Romulus.  No one was in the dorm at the time, and she pulled the bed hangings closed.  She wanted to be left alone.  The next day, she had been determined to act like everything was normal.  She didn’t think she was doing a bad job of it, but Luna had noticed that she wasn’t herself.  When they had joined Harry and his friends (at this Hufflepuff table, this time), Luna could perceive Rosie’s nervousness around Harry.

 

 “Just don’t look him in the eye,” Luna murmured serenely.  “You’ll be okay.”  For some reason, those words made the situation so much worse.  Luna, who had always seemed like her ally seemed to validate Romulus’s dark words.  She had bit her lip, feeling like she was going to cry.  She thought that she would choke on thick lump that had risen in her throat.   But after a few deep, deliberate breaths, she managed to calm down.  And for whatever reason, she had listened to Luna.  She spent just as much time with Harry as ever in the week before Easter break, but made sure not to look him straight in the eyes.

 

Rosie couldn’t help feeling treacherous.  Only, she didn’t know who she had betrayed.  Harry?  Romulus?  Herself?  She found herself feeling glad that Harry had so many friends.  It kept him distracted, which meant that he couldn’t ask her uncomfortable questions.  If Harry had started questioning her about her behaviour, she wouldn’t have known what to say.  And now it was Easter Break, and she’d be spending over a week with him.  Maybe she could just spend that time hiding away in her room with a book.  That wouldn’t be so bad, right?  She could get a head start on her homework - maybe read a few chapters ahead in her textbooks and try and teach herself.

 

At some point in time, Rosie fell asleep.  She was shaken awake but Hermione’s hand on her shoulder.

 

 “Rosie - wake up,” Hermione said.  “We’re at King’s Cross Station.”  Rosie sat up, and looked out the window, startled.  She’d be seeing Sirius soon.  Even if she couldn’t pour her heart out to him, she still felt eager to see him.   He might not take away her troubles, but Padfoot could always make her laugh.  She was already bounding off the train, searching the crowd for Sirius’s dark wavy hair.  However, she stopped short when she saw Sirius standing next to Remus.  Romulus was next to his adopted father, and as Rosie drew near, he flicked her a quick glance before looking down at the ground.

 

Sirius was walking toward her and Harry, hugging them both, but Rosie was as stiff as a plank.  She should have expected Remus and Romulus.  Sirius spent so much time talking about the projects that he and Remus worked on together.  But somehow, this pertinent fact had been misplaced in her memory.  Sirius was tousling the hair on their heads and talking cheerful to Harry.  Rosie didn’t hear a word he said.

 

She let herself get pulled along with the group, but she refused to look towards Romulus.  Her feelings towards him were too confusing.  Anger, guilt, perplexity, and then more guilt.  She didn’t want to believe that she had wronged him, but she kept feeling like she had.  They ended up going somewhere for dinner, and Rosie spent most of the evening pushing food around on her plate.  As a result, she didn’t notice the looks she was getting from Remus as his eyes darted between her and Romulus.

 

Rosie thought that once supper was over, she could at least get some space from Romulus.  But to her dismay, the group of them ended up apparating back to Grimmauld Place together.  Rosie thought that Sirius would explain, but he said nothing about it.  He just chattered away in his cheerful manner to Harry and Remus.  Eventually, Rosie broke down and asked (in a hopefully inconspicuous way) about Remus’s presence.

 

 “We’re in the middle of a new project.  The charms are still a bit sensitive and unstable so far,” Sirius had explained with a grin.  He acted like it was perfectly normal to just have Remus staying with him.  Sirius had mentioned that Remus often stayed over at Grimmauld Place in their mirror calls.   But it didn’t occur to Rosie that Remus would be here while she and Harry were visiting.  And with Remus here, it meant Romulus was here as well.

 

Half feigning exhaustion, she trudged up to her room and threw herself on her bed.  Easter break was supposed to be a holiday, but she got the feeling that she wouldn’t be relaxing.  Before long, she fell into a fitful sleep, plagued by nightmares.  She couldn’t remember them when she woke, but she thought they might have been about Harry.  He was all she could think about, when she opened her eyes and stared blearily at the wallpaper.

 

The following day was about as awkward as one could expect.  She was making an effort not to look Harry and the eyes, and trying not to speak to Romulus at all beyond cool pleasantries.  On top of that, Remus kept shooting her speculative glances.  He looked like he wanted to pull her aside and speak to her.  All that meant was that she had to make an awkward effort to avoid him as well.  She was able to do this by pretending to be very engrossed in her homework.  But at the same time, she had to pretend to not be too engrossed.  Otherwise, that would be inviting offers for help.  By the end of the day, she was drained.  Her sleep remained broken and restless.

 

 “Rosie!” Harry called out to her.  Rosie jolted awake.  The heavy blackness of late night hung around her.  Darkness seemed to like Grimmauld Place.  Was Harry having a nightmare, she wondered.  She thought she felt something.  But as she examined her link with Harry, all there was was the now-constant blackness.  She got the vague sense that he was in trouble.  A feeling of drowning, or of being lost - she wasn’t sure.  Perhaps just a nightmare.  She couldn’t sense anything from him now.  With a sigh, she settled herself back down under the covers, and was soon back asleep.

 

The following day was a little easier than the first - probably because Sirius had wanted to play a pick-up game of Quidditch.  He had managed to wrangle Harry, Remus and even Romulus into joining him.  Rosie had never seen Romulus go to a Quidditch game at school.  She wondered if he even knew the rules.  Of course, she declined to join them.  It was already enough of an ordeal to have to watch Quidditch.  She didn’t want to have to play it too.  Besides, with all the boys playing, they had an even number of players.

 

Since she was spending so much time at her books, she got her homework done far too fast.  Luckily, the boys had worn themselves out from their game, and were happy to spend the rest of the evening talking Quidditch.  The night was a repeat of the one before.  She woke up, thinking Harry was hurt or in danger, but then the feeling would fade.  In a bewildered daze, she’d lie back down and fall back asleep.

 

She couldn’t avoid everyone for the entire break.  Remus eventually cornered her, determined to talk.

 

 “Rosie,” he said, with his warm smile and gentle voice.  She had been in the parlour, reading one of the old books from the Black family collection.  She looked up from her book, and froze in place.  Silently, she cursed herself.  Her parchment and quills had been put back in her bookbag.  If she had them on hand, she could have pretended to be taking notes and doing homework.  As it was, she looked like she was just enjoying a casual read.

 

 “Hi Remus,” she replied, forcing her lips into a smile.  She thought he might ask something like: ‘Am I interrupting anything?’  She would have been able to claim to be occupied.  But he didn’t ask.

 

 “How are you, cub?  You haven’t been writing as regularly.  Sorry - I don’t mean to make you feel guilty.  I remember how busy it could get at Hogwarts.”  His smile was so understanding.  Rosie felt like she was worth less than a flobberworm.  His kindness had sparked her guilt, and she wanted to disappear into the floor.

 

 “I’m doing okay,” Rosie replied weakly.  “I’m sorry - I’ll try and write you more.”

 

 “Oh cub, you don’t have to.  I don’t expect it.  As long as you, Harry and Rom are happy, I couldn’t ask for more.”

 

The guilt intensified.  Trying to fake-smile felt painful.  It took her far too much effort to stay in her seat, rather than climbing off, and begging Remus’s forgiveness.  

 

 “So - you don’t have to talk about this if you’re uncomfortable -” Remus started.  His words caused her sense of dread to magnify.  “I notice you and Rom haven’t really been speaking.  Is everything okay?”

 

Oh Merlin.  What was she supposed to say to that?  She wished she had thought of some kind of excuse earlier.  She had days to think about this.  “Erm - well - I -”

 

  “Are you uncomfortable with him being a werewolf?” Remus asked.  His eyes looked so sad as he spoke.  Rosie wanted to die.

 

 “No!  Of course not!  That doesn’t bother me at all.  Truly!”

 

Remus smiled with relief.  “I’m glad to hear that.  I didn’t think you were the sort who would - well - anyway.  I just couldn’t understand why you and Rom weren’t talking.  But if it’s personal, then I understand.  I just hope that you two can work things out.  Rom seems to really like you.  When he was younger, he never felt the urge to be around people his own age.  It used to worry me.  I hoped that at Hogwarts, he’d find friends and open up a bit.”

 

Rosie still felt lost for words.  “It’s - things are complicated.”  She didn’t know how else to describe it.  How could she put the deep tangle of conflict that she felt in her heart into words?

 

 “It’s alright, cub.  Things will sort themselves out.  If you want to talk, you know that I’ll always be there to listen, don’t you?”

 

Rosie nodded.  “Thanks.  I - um - appreciate it.  Really.”  Remus beamed in reply.  Rosie hated herself.

 

Over Christmas break, Rosie had been upset every time that Harry had left to go visit his friends, but this time, she felt only relief.  She thought about writing to Luna, but she had no idea what to say to her friend.  Whether Harry was around or not, everything seemed to be about him.  And nothing about that situation had clarified.  What made it worse were her nightmares.  Each night, they seemed to sharpen a little more.  She kept thinking Harry was in trouble.  But so long as the link between them was blacked out, she couldn’t be sure.  Furthermore, he seemed as cheerful as ever, every morning.  She had even asked him one day whether he was still having nightmares.  He had grinned and shook his head, telling her he slept as peacefully as an overfed kneazle.

 

Before long, Easter break was almost over.  At some point, she had been pleased to discover a book that had animal summoning and animal calling spells.  Though she did not give it an excessive amount of thought, she was still worried about the snake trapped in the walls.  If she was able to call it to her, then at least she’d be able to lead it out of the castle.

 

On the last night of her break, she was exhausted.  Her sleep had been terrible the entire week.  Sirius had poked fun at the circles under her eyes, and then poked more fun at her Ravenclaw-ish-ness (as he called it).  And at no point did Remus seem to consider going back to his own flat.  Rosie wondered what had even happened to it.  His presence meant that she spent the entire week being awkwardly polite to Romulus.

 

All this meant that soon as her head touched her pillow, she was asleep.  Like every other night this week, she jerked awake, thinking something was wrong with Harry.  Nightmares again?  She stared up at the ceiling, watching the fuzzy edges of the shadows.  Her eyes were drifting closed again.  The feeling of fear and anguish was fading.  But then it didn’t.  She shivered, and pushed herself upright.  Goosebumps dotted her skin when the chill air touched her skin.

 

The feeling of fear in her link felt like salamanders crawling all over her.  She felt apprehensive.  Last year, comforting Harry when he had his nightmares was normal.  Last year, it brought her solace to know that she was helping him.  But now, she didn’t know what to think.  He had become someone who seemed invulnerable.  It made her feel small, to lose that belief that she could help him.

 

But that cry of anguish - that ache at the back of her head and neck - pulled at her heart.  Pushing her covers away, turned and climbed off her bed.  She edged towards her bedroom door, when something at the corner of her eye caught her attention.  Turning her head, Rosie looked towards the window.  Was something out there?  She felt the hairs on her arm rise, and her palms began to sweat.  What would it matter if something was outside the window?  They could never get at her - her bedroom was too high up.

 

Nonetheless, she was cautious as she crept towards the window.  But before she reached it, she paused.  There was a strange, sinister feeling, settling on her skin like a cold wet towel.  She really didn’t want to look outside the window.  But there was nothing there right?  Still, she didn’t want to look.  Maybe, she should just turn away, and go back to bed.  She should just lie back down and close her eyes, and maybe the bad feeling would go away.  Why were her feet pulling her closer towards the window?  She didn’t want to know, but she had to know.

 

The streetlamp cast a soft glow that seemed to deepen the shadows.  The lamp light blotted out the stars, and the sky appeared inky black.  She touched the glass panes, and looked downwards towards the street.  Her heart seemed to leap into her throat.  There was someone there.  A dark figure with pale skin and glittering eyes.  Eyes that were looking straight at her.  The eyes were like pinpricks of starlight - cold, white dots.  The person on the street smiled, and their teeth looked as sharp as broken glass.  She backed away in terror, tripping and falling on her backside.  Her heart pounded in her ears like a mallet beating upon a calfskin drum.  That and her ragged breathing was all she could hear.  She scuttled backwards, until she felt the edge of her bed.  Her pulse was racing with a frantic cadence.

 

 “Rosie,” a voice called out.  It sounded like Harry.  But he sounded weak.  The voice was so faint.  “Help - me - Rosie.”

 

 “Harry?” Rosie called out hesitantly.  The darkness seemed to swallow her voice.  She looked towards the wall of her room, and noticed that the grate was open.  It was big - bigger than she remembered.  And it was an escape.  An escape from whatever that _ thing _ was outside.  She crawled towards it - something seemed to tug her there.  Harry, maybe?  The hole in the wall was large enough that she could crawl through without having to duck her head.  But the walls still scraped against her arms and shoulders. The feeling of torment increased in the link.  She felt as though there was a band around her chest, squeezing.  It hurt.  Harry was hurting.  Harry was in trouble.  She had to find him, before it was too late.

 

Rosie felt like she was crawling for an indeterminate period of time.  The walls around her were brick.  The colour reminded her of dried blood.  The rough edges seemed to scratch at her clothes and skin.  She was afraid.  She kept thinking that if she stopped, even for a moment, she would be found.  But, found by what?  The image of glittering dark eyes popped in her head.  And teeth, as sharp as glass.  Her stomach lurched.  She turned a corner, and was surprised to see a small door at the end.

 

Dread coiled in her belly.  For some reason, she didn’t want to open the door.  She had a feeling that whatever was on the other side was something she didn’t want to see.  But at the same time, she knew she had to do it.  There was no choice.  If she stopped, she would be found.  And if she was found then - then what?

 

She pushed the door, her movements hesitant.  She seemed to be in an endless dark space, but there was a large, rectangular box up ahead.  The box was red and gold - Gryffindor colours.  Out of the hole in the wall, she stood up and walked towards the box.  She looked behind her, but the hole (and the entire wall) was gone.  There was only the endless black space, and the large, rectangular box.

 

The box had a lid like a shoebox.  She felt a sense of urgency, and reached towards the lid.  With a hand on each side, she pulled off the lid, holding it as though it was something fragile.  The sight within the box turned her insides to jelly.

 

  “Harry?”  Her voice came out like a croak.

 

 “You found me,” her brother whispered.  He tried to smile, and the winced.  “I knew you would.”

 

 “Harry -” Rosie didn’t want to voice the question, but she couldn’t stop herself.  “What happened to your arms and - uh - your legs.”  Her voice cracked.  He looked like his limbs had been vanished.  He looked disturbingly small and debilitated.

 

 “He - It took them,” he replied.  He looked so tired.  “It won’t stop taking parts of me.  You will help me, won’t you Rosie?”  His green eyes looked faded, like the light of his spirit was dimmed.

 

 “Of course!”  Her eyes stung with tears.  Her heart felt like it was shattering within her.  “Of course.  Tell me what to do, Harry.  Please!”

 

Harry’s eyelids fluttered closed.  “It’s coming.  It can’t know that you found me.  You have to go Rosie.”

 

 “What?  Harry - no!  I can’t leave you!”

 

His eyes opened, and his gaze pierced the depths of her soul.  “You can’t save me if you stay.  Go!  Don’t forget me Rosie.  Not again.”

 

The blackness was somehow fading to whiteness.  The she looked around her, bewildered, but when she tried to look back to Harry, he was gone.

 

 “Don’t forget me,” a Harry’s voice whispered.  “And don’t look him in the eyes.”

 

Rosie opened her eyes.  The side of her face was pressed against her pillow, which was wet with her tears.  Her room was still dark - she couldn’t guess at the time.  She attempted to feel Harry through the link, but there was nothing there.  She exhaled a shuddering breath.  Harry.  How could she have forgotten?  She wondered if she should check on him.  She pushed her covers aside, flinching as the cool air contacted her skin.  As she tiptoed towards her door, she peered towards her window.  A sickening feeling left her wanting to scrub every inch of her with a steel wool scrubber.  She felt somehow tainted.

 

She crossed the hall and stood in front of Harry’s door.  Should she check on him?  Her hand reached towards the doorknob, but as she twisted it, she was startled to find it was locked.  When did Harry start locking his doors?  She bit her lower lip, feeling rejected.  But - whoever that was laying in Harry’s bed wasn’t really even Harry, was he?

 

She looked up the hall towards the room where Romulus was staying.  She would have to apologize to him.  A feeling of shame washed over him.  Her behaviour towards him had been terrible.

 

The next day, Harry, Rosie and Romulus were packed and on their way to King’s Cross Station.  Rosie had regretted her lack of attentiveness towards Sirius as well as Remus over the Easter break.  Before boarding the scarlet train, she hugged Sirius with all her might.  She gave Remus a hug and a silent apology.  He had rested a hand on the top of her head, as though absolving her, but it didn’t take away her guilt.  With a final watery smile towards the pair of them, she boarded the train.

 

Instead of sitting with Harry and his friends, she made her excuses and joined Luna and Romulus in a separate compartment.  Her brother had given her an amused smile, and shooed her off.  It was like watching a creature wearing Harry’s skin.  Whatever was affecting him had perfected Harry’s mannerisms.  

 

She felt shy as she entered the compartment where Luna and Romulus sat, across from one another.  Romulus’s blue eyes were wintry and his face was impassive.  He had given her a quick glance and then looked away, keeping his gaze on the view outside the window.  Since the train had yet to move, all he saw were the crowds of parents.  Luna had given her a serene smile, as though nothing was the matter.  Rosie took a deep breath, and sat next to Romulus.  He looked surprised, when he felt the seat shift.  As for Luna, she appeared to be as pleased as a fox with a fresh caught mouse. 

 

  “Rom?” Rosie said gingerly.  Her palms were damp with nervousness, and her insides felt wobbly.  What if he hated her now?  Her behaviour had been terrible.  Perhaps she was beyond forgiveness.  Romulus met her eyes, and his expression was composed but also expectant.

 

Rosie took a deep breath, trying to centre herself.   _ Blank and empty _ she reminded herself, trying to slow her galloping heart.  It was hard to meet his eyes.  She made brief eye contact before looking away, examining the material of their seats with undue interest.

 

 “I’m really sorry.  About everything.”  Rosie peeked a glance back at Romulus, trying to gauge his reaction.  He was scanning her face, as though trying to ascertain her sincerity.  Then he shrugged.

 

 “Okay.”

 

Rosie frowned.  Okay?  What did he mean?  Was he brushing her off?  Or accepting her apology.  Romulus was hard to read at the best of times.  She wasn’t sure whether to keep prodding him, or to leave him alone.

 

 “Rosie - you’re starting to attract wrackspurts,” Luna said mildly.  Rosie looked towards her friend, puzzled.

 

 “Don’t overthink things.  It’s  _ okay _ .”  Luna’s large grey eyes held a twinkle of amusement.  Rosie turned to look back at Romulus, and a small smile tugged at the edge of his lips.  She suddenly felt as though an immense burden had been lifted from her shoulders.  Rosie gave Luna a quavering smile of gratitude.  She bit her lower lip, almost restraining her smile, and peered back at Romulus.

 

 “I don’t deserve friends like you two.  I’ve been such an idiot,” she confessed with a sigh.  Romulus smirked.

 

 “I’ve heard that’s something that happens to people,” Romulus replied.  Rosie looked confused for a brief moment before shaking her head and giving Romulus an affectionate push on the shoulder.  

 

 “Oh look, the wrackspurts are going away!” Luna said placidly.

 

Rosie grinned.  “It’s about time.”

 

Back at Hogwarts, Rosie divided her time between Romulus, Luna and Harry.  Harry had noticed her spending less time with him.  But she made some excuse about neglecting her Ravenclaw friends, and he seemed to accept the excuse.  Having so many people in his life, Harry couldn’t be bothered to track her down (or so she hoped.  With renewed zeal, she tried to research what she could about curses and possessions.  She continued taking notes on her brother’s behaviour, and included a long section about how her own behaviour had been affected by him.  Was Harry (or as she silently called him black-Harry) using some sort of mind magic?  Mind magic, both Occlumency and Legilimency were relatively obscure branches of magic.  The topics were not taught in school, but many pureblood families made it a point to learn one or both arts.  Occlumency, in particular, was taught to many pureblood children whose families aligned themselves with the Dark side and Dark magic.  It was perceived as the logical course of action to be able to protect one’s secrets, both physically and in the mind.

 

Despite having been raised by a pureblood (which Sirius was), whose family consisted of Dark Wizards, neither Rosie nor Harry had been taught any mind magics.  Sirius had long-ago aligned himself with the Light, and had done his best to cast off all the trappings of the Dark.  If not for the Black family library, Rosie would have been ignorant of both concepts.  Rosie had read more about Occlumency that Legilimency.  They were both such advanced magic.  Even if she had wanted to attempt to learn it herself, the likelihood of her succeeding was very low.  

 

As a result, her knowledge about Legilimency was scant, and she decided it was as good a place as any to continue her research.  She had so few clues otherwise.  Though the Hogwarts library was vast, she was surprised to discover that she could find nothing about Legilimency.  There had been one book that made mention of mind magics, but it only described some general theory.  If there was anything to discover here, it would be in the restricted section.  It occurred to her then that Madam Pomfrey had given her a book on mind healing, which had included an entire chapter on Legilimency.  Better to start there than to take out the invisibility cloak and break more school rules.

 

The mind healing book ended up having enough information to confirm Rosie’s suspicions.  Black-Harry was most likely a Legilimens.  More than that, he was a powerful one - it was not an easy magical art to master.  Powerful Legilimens were capable of subtle compulsion magics, and she was quite sure that black-Harry had done this to her.  And more than that, Legilimency required eye-contact to work.  No wonder Luna had warned her not to look Harry in the eye.  And Rosie almost never questioned how Luna knew what she knew.  Her father was the editor to  _ The Quibbler _ .  It was expected that Luna would have access to areas of knowledge that most people knew nothing about.

 

Long ago, Rosie had given up trying to learn Occlumency (beyond emptying her mind) because it was too difficult.  Now, it seemed like it might be a necessity.  She couldn’t find any books either Legilimency or Occlumency in the Hogwarts library, but she knew that there was a book about Occlumency at Grimmauld Place.  She would have to get Sirius to send it by owl post.

 

Since Rosie, Luna and Romulus weren’t certain whether or not Harry was possessed, Rosie decided it would be best to focus on soul protection.  This was a concept mentioned in a couple of the books related to possessions.  The dream that Rosie had had over Easter break remained vivid in her mind.  She had a feeling that the Harry she had seen in the box represented the strength of his soul.  Whatever it was that was affecting her-Harry had weakened him terribly.  Not only was he shut away in some dark corner of his consciousness, but parts of him had been taken-over by the Darkness.

 

 “Do you think you’d be able to make this potion?” Rosie had asked Romulus, as they were sitting together in the library after class.  She pointed to the complicated brew in the archaic book they had found on soul-protections.  Of all the potions that were mentioned, this one had seemed the most powerful, but also beneficial.  On the off chance that there was another soul inhabiting Harry’s body, they would want to make sure to strengthen Harry’s soul, and not someone else’s.

 

Romulus scanned the recipe with a thoughtful expression.  “It’s not too difficult.  Rare ingredients, though.”

 

 “I could provide the Galleons for the ingredients - maybe we could buy them from Professor Snape,” Rosie suggested.

 

Romulus frowned.  “He’d probably be willing to help anyway, if you were just willing to tell him.”

 

 “No!” Rosie exclaimed.  “I - well - I’m still not sure about him.  He might like you, but he has always been pretty mean to Harry.  I just - well - maybe if you speak to him?  Please?”

 

It took an effort for Romulus not to roll his eyes.  Instead he shrugged.  “Fine.”  But he didn’t appear to annoyed by Rosie’s reluctance.  

 

 “You’ll want to give this potion to your brother sooner rather than later,” Romulus added, as he glanced over the instruction again.  “It will be more effective that way.  Have you thought about how you’ll do it?”

 

 “I have ideas - but, you’ll have to make me two batches,” Rosie replied.  Romulus watched her, waiting for her to elaborate.  “Well, I’m not sure if it’ll work, but it’s all I can think of.  Trying to spell the potion into his stomach is too difficult.  Knowing my luck, I’d probably kill him.”  Rosie frowned miserably.  

 

Romulus only gave a noncommittal hum in response. 

 

As the rest of April passed by, Rosie’s stress only increased.  She felt as though she were no closer to a solution.  Everything she was grasping at consisted of methods that only held the danger at bay.  Harry’s popularity had only increased during that period of time.  If such a title as ‘Most Popular Boy at Hogwarts’ existed, Harry could contend for the title.

 

It was getting near to that period of time that kept Ravenclaws away from bed, and sent them (bloodshot eyes and all) straight for the books - exams were coming up.  And now that they had a new History teacher, Ravenclaws that previously neglected the subject had developed a renewed interest in it.  This renewed interested manifested itself as extra studying and hours spent in the library.  (“Professor Humberston is so amazing” she had heard more than one of the Ravenclaws proclaim.  “She knows so much about the inheritance laws of early medieval wizards in the Southern Isles!”)  Rosie supposed that she should be grateful, in a way.  Impending exams meant that Marietta and Sarah were too busy studying to plot ways to torture her.  Sadly, this was not the case for Toby.  The fourth year was as unruffled as ever.  With Rosie spending less time with Harry, this meant more hair-tousling, and aggravating cutesy nicknames from Toby.  She could tolerate the fake affection.  But the ambiguous, veiled comments and questions were unsettling (“Having trouble with your brother?” he’d ask, with his mocking smile.)  She felt that he knew more than he was letting on.

 

 “I’ll tell you about my special ability if you tell me what you know about Harry,” she had said once to Toby, in a moment of desperation.  She had been in the Ravenclaw Nest at the time, about to enter her dormitory when he had ‘bumped into’ her.  He had ruffled her hair, and was about to walk away when she grabbed onto his sleeve, and then let go as though she had been scalded.

 

Toby was as dispassionate as ever.  He pretended to consider her exchange, black eyes scanning the ceiling as if in thought.  “No,” he drawled with honey smoothness.  “No sense spoiling my fun.  But nice of you to offer, sweet little Eaglet.”

 

 “What, about this, is fun?” Rosie had snapped and scowled.

 

Toby’s eyes danced with amusement.  He made a nonchalant sweeping gesture towards her.  “Oh, all this.  You’re quite cute when you’re angry.  Your face gets splotchy.   Oh come, don’t look embarrassed, little one.  I mean that in a nice way.”  His tone sounded a bit nasty as he said it, so it was evident that he did  _ not _ mean it in a nice way.

 

Rosie had been about to turn away and head up to her dorm room, when Toby grabbed her wrist.  “You know, little rose, you’ve been a lot more entertaining that I expected.”  He smirked and then released his grip.

 

Her wrist felt as though it had been branded, even though his touch was cold.  “Is that all you wanted to say, Tobs?”  She felt angry.  She couldn’t help it.  Her life wasn’t a game.  Harry’s situation wasn’t  _ fun _ .  She resented the way that Toby got pleasure out of this.

 

 “Actually no,” Toby replied.  “What I wanted to say is that you should tell your little wolf to come back to the Nest.”

 

 “What?  Why?”

 

Toby smirked.  “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure that no harm comes to him from the other Eagles.”

 

Rosie narrowed her eyes with mistrust.  “What’s this about?”

 

The edge of Toby’s lip turned up.  “It just seems like our prodigal son ought to come back.”  Toby shrugged.  “And I confess, it amuses me to see the Eagles tremble before the little wolf cub, cowards that they are.”

 

Rosie’s eyes widened.  She never thought she’d hear Toby confess to this side of himself.  “You’re scary, Woodbridge,” she confessed, surprised at her honesty.  

 

Toby’s returning smile was genuine.  “I’ll take that as a compliment, little one.”

 

Rosie did managed to convince Romulus to return to the Nest.  She knew he liked the Ravenclaw’s perch - it was one of the brightest and most peaceful places that one could study (while sitting at an actual desk).  There were other solitary spots at Hogwarts that offered more privacy, but alas - no tables were available.  But although that felt like a small win for Romulus, the situation was still bad.  Throughout April and even May, Romulus did not come down to the Great Hall for breakfast.  Rosie knew that more than ever, Romulus wanted to avoid the crowd of students, now that his identity as a werewolf had been revealed.  Cowed Ravenclaws were one thing - the rest of Hogwarts was another.

 

 “It’s not that bad, is it?” Rosie had asked, trying to keep the plaintive tone out of her voice.

 

 “I’m still getting howlers,” Romulus replied.  “And the headmaster hates me.”

 

Rosie frowned.  She would have liked to deny it - but even she had seen the looks of disgust that Professor Mole shot at Romulus whenever the man’s eyes happened to pass over the Ravenclaw table.  She hated him.  She hated the headmaster almost in equal measure as the other Ravenclaws seemed to love him (“The best thing that ever happened to Hogwarts,” most of the gushed.)  She might not have been close to Professor Dumbledore, but she wished the eccentric old man would come back.  Why did it have to feel like things just got progressively worse?  At least there were no more strange petrifications.  Her sessions with Madam Pomfrey kept her up to date on the health and wellness of the student body.

 

As May’s full moon drew near, Romulus grew more and more morose and withdrawn.  She knew that she should have been focused on helping Harry, but instead, she and Luna fretted over their friend.

 

 “Please tell us what’s wrong,” Rosie had beseeched Romulus.  “You never used to get bothered by full moons.  What’s changed?  What is Professor Mole making you do?”

 

Romulus would only purse his lips.  Otherwise, he pretended not to hear.  But his blue eyes showed a mix of rage and deep weariness.  In some ways, it reminded Rosie of the Bloody Baron - the ghost that carried the burden of heavy chains.  

 

 “Do you think we should follow him?” Rosie had asked Luna, when the pair of them were alone in the dorms.  But Luna shook her head.

 

 “It would wound his pride.”

 

Rosie sighed heavily.  “I know.  I know, but -” she sighed again.  “I’m so worried about him.”

 

When the sixth of May arrived, Rosie couldn’t stop looking over at Romulus.  It was tempting to fuss over him, but when she had tried, he only snapped at her.  His eyes flashed with an untamed anger - the eyes of a wolf that was trapped.  Romulus probably wouldn’t want anything like pity or sympathy, but Rosie couldn’t help feeling bad.  Even Harry had noticed Rosie’s troubled mood and commented on it.  

 

The day had dragged with aching slowness.  The night was worse - her imagination supplied her with images of pain and torment.  She couldn’t stop thinking of Romulus being tied down and forced to submit.  She thought of a wolf’s lonely howl, and snapping, snarling teeth that could not reach anything.  And she couldn’t help thinking of how Romulus was alone - all alone, with no one to help him. 

 

It was a mixed blessing to see the sun rise the following day.  Though she could barely peel her eyes open, and her head felt like it was stuffed with wool, she was down in the infirmary first thing in the morning.  Romulus was already lying on one of the infirmary beds, covered with a blanket.  His pallor was sickly, and tremors would shake his body.  She felt tears springing at her eyes, and took her friend’s hand.  He appeared to be unconscious.

 

 “He’s been given a calming draught, but it seems to have sent him straight off to sleep,” Madam Pomfrey said, coming up behind Rosie.  The matron laid a gentle hand on her shoulder.  Her blue eyes were kind.

 

 “He didn’t suffer like this before -” Rosie said, her voice wobbling.  “Why is it like this now?  What did Professor Mole do to him to make him like this?”

 

 “I’ve only been told that he’s been required to stay within the castle, Miss Potter.  He’s also quite sensitive to the wolfsbane.  Beyond that, I’m not certain,” the matron told her. 

 

Rosie’s heart ached, and she didn’t want to let her friend’s hand go.  But she had classes to go to.

 

 “I’ll be back later,” she murmured to the sleeping Romulus.

 

Rosie and Luna visited Romulus in the late afternoon.  Their friend was awake, and polishing off the last of his food.  There were dark circles under his eyes, and he looked rather ragged.  But he still smiled when he saw them, even if it barely reached his eyes.

 

 “How are you feeling, Rom?” Rosie asked.  Romulus shrugged.

 

 “I made you this,” said Luna, handing over smooth stone with runes etched into it.  “For healing and strength.”  

 

Romulus stared down at the stone, and swallowed.  “Thank you,” he murmured, closing his fingers around the stone.  He closed his eyes, and it almost looked as though he could feel the magic of it.  Or perhaps he did.  Rosie did recall reading that werewolves were sensitive to magic.

 

Rosie examined Romulus with concerned care.  Knowing her friend, he wouldn’t want to talk about anything.  Romulus had never been the sort to spill his heart.  Though she did wonder what he wrote about in his letters to Remus.

 

 “We brought our books and homework,” Rosie said.  “We’ll spend the rest of the afternoon with you.”

 

Romulus looked surprised by this.  But a faint flush coloured his cheeks, and if Rosie hadn’t been looking, she would have missed the light in his eyes.

 

 “You’re going to be so sick of the two of us by the end of the day,” Rosie grinned.  Romulus could only smile and shake his head.  Though little had changed, he looked a little stronger and healthier.

 

By the weekend, Romulus was back to normal.  He told Rosie and Luna that Professor Snape had given him the necessary ingredients, and he planned to start brewing the soul-protecting potion immediately.

 

 “Did you tell him anything about - well, Harry?” Rosie had asked nervously.  Romulus had shaken his head.  

 

Rosie still heard the occasional hiss of the large snake, but the summoning and calling spells that she had found in the Black Library had had little success.  It wasn’t that she had failed to call a snake - as a matter of fact, she had managed to call not one but three pet snakes that students had snuck into Hogwarts.  Two of the three snakes were annoyed to have been pulled away from their warmth.  One of the snakes wouldn’t leave her alone until she fed it.  That turned out to be more challenging than she thought, and she ended up having to summon a mouse for the little serpent.

 

 “ _ Small but acceptable, _ ” the snake had hissed.  Rosie sighed.  She had never worked so hard for a meal before (and it wasn’t even her own meal).  Could that large serpent have died, she wondered.  Did it end up starving somewhere, alone and trapped behind the walls?  She felt something in her chest tighten at the thought.  It sounded like such a terrible fate.  She hoped it wasn’t too late for the mysterious snake.  But it was a low priority compared to Harry.

 

A few days after promising to brew the soul-protecting potion for Rosie, Romulus handed her two small phials.  The liquid inside was a clear with a hint of pink.  Within the small phials, the top layer smoked and misted, forming sinuous patterns.

 

 “You’ve read about the potion?” Romulus asked.

 

 “Yeah,” Rosie replied.  She wouldn’t do or use anything that she thought could harm Harry.  But she didn’t want to do anything that could strengthen the blackness either.  From everything that she read about the soul protection potion, it was helpful both for those who were possessed, and those who weren’t.  If a person who wasn’t possessed were to drink the soul-protection potion, it would fortify the soul.  Its effects were particularly helpful in protecting against damage from using Dark Magic.  Maybe it would help Harry, but maybe it wouldn’t.  Either way, it wouldn’t hurt him.  The only question was, would he drink it?

 

Rosie didn’t want to resort to trickery to get Harry to drink the potion.  She had long ago discarded the idea of using a spell to get into his stomach.  In part, because the risks were so great, but also, it just felt wrong.  She didn’t plan to use subterfuge.  Rosie didn’t have the cunning of a Slytherin.  Instead, she would just have to try for Gryffindor bravery.  And Ravenclaw logic.  The bravery was the difficult part.

  
It was a with a sense of quivering trepidation that she joined Harry and his friends at the Gryffindor table after her last class of the day.  Luna had joined her.  Without the serene support of her friend, she wasn’t certain whether she would have been able to dredge up enough courage.


End file.
